Chosen to Die: The 25th Hunger Games
by ataharcot
Summary: "On the 25th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children are dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district will be made to uphold an election and vote on the tributes who will represent it." Choice. It's a funny thing. It's powerful, and people around you are affected by your decisions. Choose wisely, twenty three people are going to die.
1. i- You can't stop her

_**The Capitol**_

 _You can't stop her_

* * *

 _Emory Starling, 20_

 _The President's Daughter_

* * *

Tears wrack my body, the fancy dress being stained by my black mascara. I just cry, looking numbly at the Capitol below.

The people who live who glory and blood, watching dirty little district rats fight to the death. Possible new meat to grace their beds, possible things to scoff at, but nonetheless, entertainment.

Father started the games 25 years ago to avenge Uncle Lennon, who was killed by a person in 12. The Great Rebellion led to many important men and women being killed, and had the destruction of 13. He rose as the leader, and conquered the rebellious and untamed country from the ashes. He did it heartbroken and angry. In order to reprimand the districts for the rebellion that killed his best friend and brother, he created the Hunger Games.

" _War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that, each year, the twelve districts of Panem would offer up, in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."_

Of course, by then, he met my mother soon after, and by the fifth game, I was born. Many hoped that the birth of his child, his first-born and only child, he will experience pain and adoration and the unconditional love that only a parent felt and end the games. He didn't. Since I turned 5, I sat with Mother and Father in the President's balcony, overlooking the tributes' chariots.

" _One day Emory, you shall look over here and know that_ _ **you**_ _will have the power to control the fate of twenty-four people in your hands. One day darling, one day,"_ he said each parade, his smooth, not at all callused hands brushing through my long golden locks.

Father was murdered by an assassin sent by a rich man in Eleven last month. Mother, stricken with anger and sorrow, was handed the role as President of Panem.

Mother had always had colour. She was the most vibrant person in my life, with golden blonde hair like my own and striking blue eyes. She lost more colour in her life from the past month than in her 38 years of life in Panem. She dulled, her blonde hair becoming duller, not as golden blonde but straw blonde. Her eyes faded away to a washed out blue. She paled considerably, not as fashionable as most people here would say. She swore revenge on the districts for the assassination of my father.

But this… this is too far.

"Mother! You can't do that! That's horrible! Sick… who would do that?" I had screamed at her. Her idea was outrageous.

She scoffed. "They need to pay. Your father is DEAD because of _them._ "

I stepped closer, my fists clenched. I never liked the games. I'm destroying them once I become President. "Mother, they are PAYING! The Games… taking parents away from children, so young… some, if not all of the tributes are younger than me!"

She rolled her eyes. "Emory, you are in the Capitol. You are safe. And you aren't president yet, and if you keep this up, you never will be! Regardless of what you say, this will happen."

I sighed. "Mummy, I know Father's death killed you on the inside, but many will suffer because of this." I haven't called her Mummy for years. I hoped that it would turn her around.

She hugged me tightly, her mouth right beside my ear. "I love you too darling, but this won't change anything."

* * *

The stylists put my golden locks into a low chignon twist, twisting it painfully. They giggled, talking about the newest victor, Roman Troy from District 2, and how hot he was.

"Oh, did you see how Roman looked with Augustus Silvermoon?" Cardia, a woman with atrocious purple hair, ghost pale skin, and green tattoos that swirled around her arms, asked.

"Ah yes! Roman's outfit, just perfection!" Flavius, a man with tattooed teeth and orange hair gushed.

"I loved how he got a tattoo to represent his love for the games!" Lucretia, a woman with bright blue hair, gushes.

They chat like this for a while, and finally finish me after what seemed like an hour.

I head up to the President's balcony, beside my mother, overlooking the crowd, and put on my best fake smile. The Capitolites scream, gushing over my outfit and hair, and I wave to them. Years of experience made me learn to just feed them, not oppose them.

Mother looked a little brighter, her straw coloured hair straight, and she wore an emerald green dress, the exact colour of my and my father's eyes. She smiled down at them, but her eyes held a saying of victory.

She rises gracefully, and heading to the front of the balcony. The Capitolites cheer for her, their beloved president, and bearer of good news.

Smiling with triumph, she speaks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 25th Hunger Games!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms out and addressing the crowd. "Us here, in the Capitol, have decided to do something different this year, something unique. We will spice up the Games, making it unforgettable! It is decided that every 25 years, there will be a Quarter Quell, to keep the generation fresh for a new generation of those who have fallen in the uprising against the Capitol. Each Quarter Quell shall be distinguished from the other games by something different. This Quarter Quell, the first ever, to remind the districts that they had a choice, the districts shall vote for who will go into the Games!"

The crowd below us erupted in cheers, but I stared into the distance, wishing that my father had never come up with these games in the first place.

All I know is, that as long as I am in the Capitol, I am safe.

But for anyone else not living here, they are not.

* * *

 **Hi guys! My name's Ata and this just hit me. So... I've been obsessed with two SYOTs lately (101st Hunger Games by Team Shadow and Certain Defeat: The 3rd Annual Hunger Games by dyloccupy) and I've decided to make one! So the SYOT form is in my profile because I know the stories won't let you copy and paste. The spots can be reserved for 7 days, and then they won't be yours. Also, it's a first come, first serve type of thing. You can have up to 3 tributes, but one has to die in the bloodbath, I'm sorry. Butttt, if you have less than 3, none of them have to die. The next time this story will be updated is when both tributes from District 1 are submitted. Thanks for checking this story out!**


	2. One- We're not all the same

**_District One_**

 _We're really not all the same_

* * *

 _Anastasia Ripley, 17_

 _District One Female Tribute_

* * *

I trek along the outskirts of One. It's a bit chilly, but I don't mind.

Exploring the district, finding out new things, and just being outside always help me clear my mind. I needed that especially today, because it's Reaping Day.

 _It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair,_ I think as I hike on a path I made a long time ago. The flowers are just starting to bloom, some into a soft pink, others into vibrant yellows and reds. Some little animals, like bunnies and squirrels, run across the grass and trees, making it a serene sight. It calms me down, taking my mind off of the impending doom that will happen in two hours.

I stop at a cliff that overlooks the entire district. District 1 looks so small, so fragile, from up here. Some lights are on in random houses, but not many are. It's the crack of dawn, the beginning of the sunrise. I sit down on the mossy ground, taking off my shoes as my toes soak in the air. I just watch, waiting. The sun eventually peaks out, as oranges and pinks flood the sky. I smile to myself. I could never get enough of this view.

"Anastasia!" I turn around to see my best friend, Gigi, come jogging towards me. Her green eyes are bright and her curly blonde hair bounces in its loose ponytail. "Thought I might find you here."

"Hey Gi," I smile. "Sorry I didn't find you earlier. I just-" my voice trails off, but Gigi catches on.

"-wanted to be alone? I get that." She takes a seat next to me, on the dewy ground. As we stare off at the sunlight flooding the district, she turns to me. "Are you scared?"

"Why?"

Gigi frowns, looking out again. "Because the girls from the academy are getting everyone to vote for you in the games."

I sigh, not surprised at all. I'm not a typical girl from One, hence the reason they all want me to die. Unlike most girls, who have gorgeous emerald green eyes and curly platinum blonde hair, I have long, straight bronze hair and brown eyes. I'm also not the richest in the district, giving girls like Diamond Moonweather and Amber Rouge a reason to pick on me. Once upon a time, I would have been sad about that, but now, I just really don't care.

"That was kind of expected," I say. "They never liked me anyway. If I do get reaped, I'll win just so that could bite them in the butt."

"I guess so…" she says, "I just- I guess I just don't want you to go."

I hug her tightly. "And I won't. I'm Anastasia Ripley, explorer girl extraordinaire. Nothing they do could ever hurt me. If that snake didn't kill me, the airheads from the academy won't scratch me."

She laughs, buying it. Inside, I'm scared. I don't know what would happen if I was reaped for this year's Quarter Quell. I just pray that those girls' influence won't get me chosen.

I force a huge smile to my face, taking her hand and dragging her up. "Now come on, we have to get ready if we want to look our best for this _big big day_!" I laugh, imitating our ridiculous district escort, Trixibella Remus. We giggle all the way back to our houses.

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!"

"Oh Ana, I'm so glad you're finally home," Mom says, her long auburn hair tied into a loose bun. "You need to get ready, the Capitol coverage is going to be much larger this year for the Quarter Quell."

I can sense my mom is worried, but when Dad comes in, a whole load of just plain terrified fills the room. Dad hugs tight when he sees me. "Today's a big day," he says nervously. "I hope you'll be cautious."

I nod, heading to the bathroom, washing myself. A white dress is laid on my bed. I put it on and look in my mirror.

The dress is too loose for my petite frame, and I have no belt, so it's stuck like that. I sigh, brushing my hair and slipping on a pair of simple black shoes. There, I look presentable.

I walk into the kitchen. Mom and Dad are ready, talking in hushed tones, obviously about me. I cough, and instantly Mom hugs me.

"You look beautiful sweetie," she whispers, her voice wavering slightly.

We walk to the square, Mom and Dad heading off to the adults section. The Peacekeeper takes my blood, verifying that it's me, and lets me go. Gigi spots me and runs to me.

"I'm so nervous!" she says, her green eyes wide. "You're not allowed to have volunteers this year so there's no one to volunteer for you."

"I am too." I study the rows and rows of people, all people who have voted for someone to die.

"Well, you should be." Gigi tenses up as I roll my eyes and turn around. Diamond Moonweather, Amber Rouge, and Jade Collins all smirk at me. "We made sure that _you_ would be voted. After all, who would actually want the mousy girl to live?"

I plaster a huge smile. "Diamond, Amber, Jade, you all look gorgeous today for Reaping Day. Hoping Roman Troy would notice you? I'm pretty sure he will, who could ever miss girls as beautiful as you?"

They all look flabbergasted, unable to get a word out of their hanging mouths. I take my leave as Gigi giggles beside me.

"They never catch on, do they," she laughs.

I smirk. "Of course they don't, they're too dumb to catch onto anything that doesn't involve Roman."

We all stand in the crowd of seventeen year olds as the mayor, a handsome man with bright blue eyes, reads the Treaty of Treason. I imagine the districts in harmony as he reads in. Smiles, families that could be with families, people laughing together, and no Hunger Games. I space out of the world until I hear two words that change my world.

"Anastasia Ripley!"

The crowd mumbles. Some gasp, while most laugh. I swallow my fear and smile to everyone, pretending that I'm _so happy_ to be reaped, as I walk right beside Trixibella on the stage.

"And now for the boys." Trixibella places one super pale hand into the reaping bowl and takes the single piece of paper out. "Platinum Worth!"

I internally gasp, just barely holding my smile. I voted for him to go into these games as well. He murdered 3 people. He's dangerous.

Platinum walks up to the stage, looking chill. I, though, know he's seething. I can see it in his eyes.

We shake hands. I refuse to meet his eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the District One tributes for the 25th Hunger Games and the first ever Quarter Quell, Anastasia Ripley and Platinum Worth!"

We are ushered to the Justice Building, where we could say our final goodbyes.

Mom and Dad come in crying, wrapping their arms around me. We all cry together. My parents because they're scared for me, and me because I've never seen my parents cry.

"Promise me you'll come back. Promise me Ana, promise me," Dad begs. His eyes are just so _broken_ , and even though I think I won't survive I nod.

"I promise."

Mom's mouth is close to my ear, her warm breath staggering. "Never, ever, ever lose your spirit Anastasia. Don't let them break you now."

I nod. We all hug again, and we stay in this embrace until the peacekeepers drag my parents out.

Gigi runs in, pulling me into a fierce hug. "Thank you," I say, "for being the best friend I've ever had. For sticking with me even though I'm a loser."

She laughs, her eyes filling with tears. "You're welcome, but the only way you can repay me is by coming back. Don't join the Career pack Ana, that'll only land you a knife in your back."

I nod, hugging her one last time.

"I'm cheering for you," she murmurs, giving me one last smile, before she leaves.

The next person shocks me.

"Lust?" I say.

Lust is the coolest person in my age group. He's never talked to me before, so I wouldn't expect _him_ out of all people to come and see me one last time.

He walks close to me, his eyes sad, pulling me closer and he kisses me, giving me my first ever kiss. We kiss until we can't breathe. I stare at him, my eyes wide open.

"I'm sorry, I had to do this at least once."

Then he walks out. I stare at the door, eyes still wide open, mouth still wide open. I touch my lips, and a warm fuzzy feeling spreads through me. What did Lust mean by that? Did he really just kiss me?

The last person almost shocks me as much as Lust did. Sabara, the daughter of the richest man in the district, comes over to me, clasping something into my hand.

"I always admired your spirit," she whispers, giving me a shy smiles and leaves.

I open my palm, staring at something I would look at in the jewelry store. Something I couldn't afford.

Sabara gave me a ruby bracelet.

* * *

 _Platinum Worth, 22_

 _District One Male Tribute_

* * *

"Platinum, stop!" Gold giggles as I tickle her.

"What are you going to do to make me stop?" I ask, smirking at her.

She shrugs, suddenly leaning forward and kissing me. We kiss in the alley of a boutique and jewelers, not minding anything or anyone around us.

We pull apart to footsteps, Gold's full pink lips turning into a pout.

"It's the peacekeepers," I mouth. She gets it, and we scramble behind some old boxes.

"I swear I heard people here," one said. I closed my hand over Gold's mouth to stop her from giggling, glaring at her. She shuts up immediately, her eyes widening with fear. Good.

Once the footsteps and voices are gone, we get out from behind the boxes and go home. The Reapings don't apply to us anymore, but we still have to look good for them.

Gold showers first, insisting that she will need extra time to look her best, so I'm in my bedroom. I finger the tattered, bloody piece of cloth, taking me back to _that_ day.

" _Honey! We're just going out to get some groceries! Do you want to come with us?" My mom had said. Her beautiful blonde hair was in a bun, and her green eyes, god, they were always smiling. Her hands were wrapped protectively around her stomach, which carried my little sister Silver._

 _I grumbled, throwing the knives at the target. "I'm busy Mom."_

 _She pursed her lips. "Alright then, Darling, we'll be back soon." She kisses me on the forehead, leaving me to my throwing._

 _It wasn't until two hours later that I realized that they should've been home by now. I didn't mind about that, maybe they were just picking something up for when Silver arrived._

 _When the phone rang, that's when I went onto full on panic. Something happened. Something has to have happened. No one uses the phone unless something bad happened._

" _Hello?" I said, my voice small and scared. "This is Platinum Worth speaking. Who am I talking to?"_

 _A clipped tone answered back, like me using call etiquette was wasting her time. "Mr. Worth, I'm sorry to say this, but you have to go to the doctor's shop immediately. Your parents were in a car accident, and are in critical condition. We are also putting your mother in early labor, as that might be the only way to save your sibling."_

" _What!" I roared. "She isn't due for another month! That can't happen!"_

 _She sighed into the phone, like I was too stupid to understand anything. "This will be the only way to save your sibling."_

 _I grabbed my shoes and run to the doctor's office. Inside, the doctor's daughter, Ivory, who was my age, greeted me. "Platinum, come right this way."_

 _I could tell she was scared by the way the sweat ran down her face. We entered a room that was stark white, and in the middle of the room laid my parents._

" _Mom… Dad…" I croaked, tears running down my face. Doctor Sheen was running all over the place, making the midwife hurry up with the process and him desperately trying to stop my parents from losing too much blood._

" _Come over here Platinum, just in case you have to-" she stopped herself, a sob coming up her throat. Mom often visited this very same office and had Ivory check up on Silver. Ivory was close to our family._

 _I listen, heading to my mom's table first, holding her hand. "Mom, please, please, please don't die on me. You've been there for me since I was little and you always picked me up when I fell. Wake up Mom, live, not just for me, but for Silver too."_

 _I kissed her on the forehead and walk to Dad. "When I was younger, I always wondered why you forbade me from going into the games. Now I see you just wanted to protect me. But if you don't live, I'm going to hunt down your murderers and see that get the justice they deserve."_

 _Ivory brandished a baby into my arms, small and swaddled in blankets. Silver. I rocked her, seeing her little chest fall up and down while she breathed, until, she didn't._

" _Silver!"_

 _Ivory really did cry then. "I'm sorry Platinum, the crash went right through the stomach. Silver is dead, and so are your parents."_

 _I buried them alone. No one cried with me at the burial of Lumen Worth, Opal Worth, and Silver Worth._

 _And then I fulfilled my promise to my dad to kill the little bastards that murdered my parents._

Sweat was all over my body now from the painful memory. _Murderer, murderer, murderer._ I killed the three people that killed my family. Everyone suspects it's me, but can't have me arrested because they have no proof.

"Plat, baby, are you okay?" I feel Gold's soft hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" I roar. "Stay away from me!"

Her eyes are fear-filled, and she squeaks something before running away. I stalk over to the shower, turning it on. Gold shouldn't use all the hot water. I step in when the water is what I like it best at, scorching hot.

Would the hot water be able to wash away all of my sins? It's been three years since they died… would they be happy from where they are now?

I'm clean now, and I go to my room and get a pair of jeans and a black shirt. I put them on, tucking the piece of fabric into my pocket. I looked good, like usual.

"Gold." I say. She turns around apologetically.

"I'm so sorry Platinum, I know I was rude."

I hugged her, kissing the top of her head. "It's okay babe. Now, let's go to the square."

The Treaty of Treason reading was bland, as I've heard it millions of times and memorized it to heart. My ears perk up when the girl, Anastasia Ripley, is reaped.

She's unique, small and seventeen. Not blonde like my mom or Gold, but she has auburn hair. I can tell that she's been reaped because she stood out like a sore thumb.

Trixibella Remus calls out the next name, and I can't believe it because _of course it had to be me_.

I keep my cool, trying not to lash out at the audience.

The mousy, pathetic girl on the stage is now important. She's my district partner. We shake hands grudgingly, and I notice that she can't meet my eyes. I smirk in amusement. Is the small girl scared of me?

Trixibella announces us one last time for the cameras, and then we're ushered to the Justice Building.

Gold is my only visitor.

"I'm so excited for you! You'll win and you'll be a victor!"

She kisses me, and we make out for pretty much the entire time. When the Peacekeepers come in to take her, she looks over her shoulder, and blows me a kiss.

"Come home for me."

But all I could think of is _murderer, murderer, murderer._

* * *

 **These tributes were brought to you by the lovely BookLovin'03 and MiniMustache. Reviewing is the best way to keep your tribute alive.** **Also, check my profile out if you want to submit a tribute of your own!**


	3. Two- If I kill, will you still love me?

_**District Two**_

 _If I kill, darling will you still love me?_

* * *

 _Alexis Penn, 18_

 _District Two Female Tribute_

* * *

 _Shink._

My arrow sinks right into the middle of the target, splitting the others. My aim has only improved, which is great considering I will be going into this year's game.

I've known about being chosen for a while, given the fact that I am the strongest female contender this year, and that I'm not afraid to get down and dirty with the rest.

Clapping erupts from behind me. I turn around to see my lovable idiot standing at the door, a smirk playing on his face.

"Hartley, what are you doing here? I'm training," I smile, dropping my bow and walking over to him. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him into a long and sweet kiss. These past three years have been the greatest in my life, and I know that after the games, if I win, it will be even greater.

"Just wanted to spend a few more moments with my favourite girl before she goes into the games," he smirks. "And to see the future victor before she becomes an official one."

My smile broadens, as that makes me feel much better. Hartley, my sweet darling Hartley, always so supportive. We've been together for three years, and even though most of my time is devoted to training, he's never complained once. "Please, I've been a victor since I was fifteen, when you first kissed me."

He swoops down again and I shriek as he pulls me into another kiss. I swat him as we break apart. "Hart, you do know that me just standing here kissing you, as productive as it is, won't sharpen my skills. And I do want to be at my A Game for these games."

"I know. That's what I love most about you. Always so hardworking. It's _such_ a _marvelous_ thing!" he trills. I look at him, disgusted.

Just to let you know, the citizens of the Capitol are complete idiots. People that sit on their lazy asses all day, thinking only about designer clothing and such, are so stupid. Once something says ' _you can never have something so amazing'_ , they'll fall over it in a heartbeat. "Don't try to impersonate those idiots. They've got exactly no brain cells."

He laughs, a good natured one that just warms me up. "I know, I know. But seriously, you're the best I know, you're already at your A Game."

I sigh. "I can always try to be better."

We end up trying to wrestle, just for training purposes of course, but we end up kissing on the mats. My heart flutters whenever I'm around him, I just can't help it. I'm going to miss him when I leave for the Capitol. I can just hope I make it back for him, all my hardwork will need to pay off somehow.

Eventually, it's time for me to go back to my house to get ready. We kiss under the doorway, because why not, and I enter my house.

"Hey Lex," my older sister, Kayla says. We're very close, even though we have a five year age difference, and could pass as twins. She, however, has no interest whatsoever in the games, unlike me, who adores them. "Hartley leave already? You do know he could always stay."

I raise my eyebrows. "Why would he stay when you're around?" I joke. We laugh together, clutching our stomachs in pain as well because of how hard we laughed.

"Anyway, Mom says that you should get ready. It's your big day after all."

I head up to my bathroom and take a shower. I use exactly two squirts of shampoo, one squirt of conditioner, and my favourite body wash. After I'm done, I take my fluffy white towel and wrap it around myself. I blowdry it and leave my dark brown hair soft and wavy.

I take out my reaping outfit, a cute white dress with spaghetti straps, and put it on. I look at the mirror and am satisfied with my appearance. I am going to the Capitol, but I'm not generic enough to care about my looks. I look fine.

"Good morning Alexis," my mom says. My mother is one of my favourite people in the world. She's been my role model since I was little, as I've always admired how hardworking she was. "Are you excited?"

I smile brightly as I hug her. She smells like strawberries. "Yes. I can't believe it's happening."

She puts her hands on my shoulder. "You've been dreaming about this since you joined the academy, I know you'll excel in the games."

"Thanks Mom," I say softly.

"Lexi! My little warrior, it's finally going to happen!" My dad walks in, his smile only opposed by my mom's. He scoops me up and twirls me around, even though I'm heavier than I look.

"Dad!" I squeal. "I'm too old for that!"

He puts me down, looking me over in a faux suspicious way. "Really? Because all I see is my little Lexi."

I grin. "Dad…"

"Now, we can continue this later, but if we're late I swear Aeneas will have my head. Let's go family."

We head over to the town square, where it's already busy and buzzing with life. For the past twenty-five years, the Hunger Games have been a huge hit. Currently, District Two boasts five victors. I hope we'll have six after these games.

My blood sample is taken and I stand with the 18 year olds. Paris Macedonia comes over to me, smiling. "Hi Alexis! Are you excited for the games?"

Paris is one of the nicest (and loudest) people in Two. "Yeah, I'm pumped for these games."

Paris smiled. Her smile was so wide because of all the times she's smiled. I don't think I've ever seen her frown. "So am I! I voted for you to go into the games… I know you could win! You were always the top of our class in the academy."

"Thanks Paris," I say.

"Well hello ladies and gentlemen of District Two. It's such a lovely day for a reaping, isn't it?" Our district's mayor, Aeneas Battlesmen, greets, smiling good naturedly. He was the victor of the first games, therefore a legend. President Starling liked him so much that he became the mayor of Two.

The crowd cheered, clearly excited for this year's games. "I know that you're as excited as I am, because this year is spectacular. This year is something that's never been introduced before: The Quarter Quell! And this Quarter Quell is so unique, so brilliant, because to honour the first President Starling's death, anyone above the age of twelve may be voted into this game!" Paris cheered beside me, and the crowd roared. "Now, we can get onto the Treaty of Treason."

I've already memorised it, as well as most of the citizens of Two, so I follow along with him. Then, after it was over, Mayor Battlesmen welcomes our district escort, the ridiculous Corinna Bleumont.

"My my my, I'm so excited for this year!" she says in her awful Capitol accent. "This will be a year to remember!"

 _Get onto it_ , I think, gritting my teeth.

"And now, the ladies." She puts her hand into the glass bowl and takes out the single slip of paper. "Alexis Penn!"

The crowd around me erupts in cheers. Paris squeezes me into a hug, tell me congratulations, and many other girls pat me on the back as I walk to the stage, my head high. Aeneas, who is also a close friend of my father's, shakes my hand, his eyes sparkling.

"And the lucky gentleman joining the lovely Ms. Penn is…" she puts her hand into the Reaping bowl again, and I hold my breath, hoping he's good and not weak, "Caydin Armon!"

My jaw drops. Like, it hits the ground. Because Caydin Armon was the best in the academy back in his day, maybe one of the best ever, and it was a big shock when he didn't volunteer for the games. His dad and my dad are friends, as they are big names in the weapons business, but I never _talked_ to him. I didn't even think about voting for him, instead I voted for Alexander Shield, the best in the academy this year.

The tall, broad shouldered Caydin walks through the crowd, a smirk playing on his lips. The girls closest to him faint, and I internally roll my eyes, instantly not impressed. He heads up the stage, gives a wink to the camera, and nods at me.

Caydin's very cocky, no doubt, but I wonder why he didn't volunteer two years ago.

Corinna's eyes rake over Caydin, and all I could think of is _gross_ , because Corinna has to be _at least_ fifty years old, and Caydin is twenty. "Now, give it up for the ever so gorgeous tributes from Two!"

Caydin and I shake hands, and I look him in the eyes. I notice, though, that Caydin looks the slightest bit unhappy, like he didn't want to be in the games. Huh.

"Nice to meet you Alexis Penn, I think we will work _very well_ together," he says. Before I can think about what he meant, we are ushered off the stage and into the waiting rooms.

Mom, Dad and Kayla are the firsts to visit me.

"You're going to the games!" Kayla cheers. "I'm so excited for you! The Capitol must be beautiful."

I nod, hugging all three of them tightly. Even though I have a good shot of winning, I still am scared that I won't make it back. I have a 1 out of 24 chance of winning, which doesn't seem like a lot.

"Now Lexi, listen to me. Stick with the Career pack, you'll be the strongest there. Caydin and you should stick together in the end, you're probably the most powerful pair," Dad says.

"Find water, Lexi. With water, comes survival. You need water to live," Mom says, grasping my hand tight.

We all hug one more time until the peacekeepers interrupt us.

"Good luck Lexi, we're cheering for you," they say, walking out the door.

Hartley comes in next. Tears stream down his face, and he walks over to me and pulls me into a fierce kiss. "I'm going to miss you, Lex," he says, his voice broken and tired. "But I know that you'll do great, you always do."

I sniffle, kissing him again. "I'm fighting for you in that arena Hartley. I'm not just fighting to win, I'm fighting because you're the prize at the end. Seeing you again will be the prize."

He hugs me tight, kissing me on the forehead. "I wish we had more time together before… _this_." He takes a shiny object out of his pocket. "But I know this is what you love, what you want to do. So I'm giving you this promise ring, not just for you to promise me that you'll come home to me, but that I promise that my heart is yours and only yours. It always was."

I kiss him again, because this feels like a goodbye. "I promise, Hartley Diadem, that I'll come home to you. My heart's yours, it's been yours since you kissed me on Starling Bridge three years ago. I love you."

"I love you," he whispers backs. Tears stream down my face because I feel like that if don't come back, I'm going to break his heart. And if his heart breaks, mine will shatter as well.

When he leaves, I run up to him one last time, kiss him one last time, and tell him I love him one last time. He tells me he loves me again, and then he leaves, taking my heart with him. I slip the ring on my left ring finger, forever giving my love to him, and see that the jewels are blue and green, just like our eyes. Oh Hartley.

And then, I know, that I must come home for Hartley.

* * *

 _Caydin Armon, 20_

 _District Two Male Tribute_

* * *

 _I hate this. It's not fair. I was done two years ago. Why?_

I threw the spear with all my might into the dummy, which exploded from the force. I dust myself off, pick up my spear, kick the dummy, and head over to the boxing station to wrap my hands.

I punch the punching bag once. _This isn't fair_.

I punch it twice. _I'm too old for them now._

I punch it a third time. _I know I'm going into the games, everyone was disappointed when I didn't volunteer._

I hit the punching bag the fourth time, and the punching bag explodes.

"Great," I sigh, grabbing the broom to clean up the sand.

"Son." I turn around, the broom lifted like a sword. "You don't need to clean that up, Flora will do that for you."

I drop the broom on the ground and start to sweep anyway. Flora is old and kind, therefore I should help her out whenever I can. "It's okay Dad, I can do it myself."

He scowls, taking the broom from my hand and placing it on the ground behind him. "Caydin, it's like these games were a blessing for you," he starts.

I internally groan. I've never wanted to be in these games, especially since Rhea entered my life. Even before that, I thought these games were sick, horrifying. I maintained my title as the top of the academy two years ago, but I only did it as a work out. Killing is unlike stabbing a dummy. It's pure murder, nothing can justify that. "Yes Father, I've heard."

"So, think of it like this. You'll probably get voted into these games, you'll win, and you'll come home. You won't have to run the family business, and instead, you can finally be a district hero." What Dad doesn't understand is that I _want_ to run the family business, because that seems much better than killing to survive. Rhea would be watching me _murder_ people on screen, on national television, and I can't do anything to stop it.

"Yes Father, that seems great," I say. "Now, I'm going to go upstairs and get ready for my doo- I mean, fate."

I walk up the glass stairs.

Rhea runs to me, her beautiful black hair is tied into a braid, her gold eyes, like mine, filled with pure happiness. "Caydin! You're back! I missed you."

I scooped her into my arms and lifted her into the air, tickling her tummy. My four year old sister giggles, squirming in my arms. She's too young to understand any of this, and I don't want her to either. "I'll never leave you, my ray of sunshine. What did I tell you?"

She giggles again, counting her fingers. "Um, I think it was ' _I'm where you are, always'_." I twirl her around.

"You're so smart Ray!" I put her on the ground, and she stares up at me. I crouch to my knees so she could see me.

"Today's Celebration Day! I'm so excited! The scary lady with the weird hair is coming today! Yay!" she cheers. Rhea's so innocent, and that's why I need to protect her from anything coming our way.

"Today is! Now Ray Ray, I'm taking you to Mommy so you can get ready," I pick her up and head up the stairs.

"Do I get to wear that pretty pink dress I got?" she asks innocently.

"Yep!" my mom says, her golden eyes shining with love. "Now Ray, we need you to get ready so you could look pretty for Celebration Day."

"Okay Mommy!" she follows after my mom, skipping on the way to her bedroom.

I smile. Rhea is the light of my life. Even if I wasn't the son of one of the richest people in the district, as long as I still have my baby sister with me, I would survive.

I take a short shower in the grand, lavish bathroom I really don't need, and get into my reaping day outfit. I'm dreading what will happen in an hour, Father has a lot of influence, he's sure to send me, his own son, into the games. I tighten my grip on the woven bracelet Rhea made me for my birthday.

"Caydin! It's time to celebrate in the square!" Rhea cheers from downstairs. I chuckle and meet my family in the grand room.

"Son, you look clean. Certainly up to standards with what the Capitol would like," Dad assesses, looking at me.

"Maximus," Mom sighs. "Give Caydin a break, we don't really know if he's going or not." Count on my mom to make Dad shut up. She's always had a calming effect on him.

"Alright Ainsley. We should go now. Come on Rhea, we're going to Celebration Square."

As we walk to the square, I notice that a lot of men are glaring hatefully at my father. I swallow hard, my father was a hard man to reach and hurt, but his children…. They were reachable.

We stood at the front of the square. Aeneas Battlesmen is smiling at the camera like usual, entertaining the crowd with his antics, like shooting an arrow in the heart of a floating balloon, popping it.

My friend Ajax Masterson joins me in where I stand in the square. "Hey dude, Phoebe not with you?" I ask, clapping him on the back.

Ajax never went into the games, like myself, but unlike me, he adores them. He wants his legacy to be full of victors. He's dating Phoebe Caesar, one of my good friends from the academy and the victor of the twenty-third game.

"Nah man, she's on the stage. The latest female victor of the Hunger Games, so she's mentoring with Roman Troy, the twenty-fourth victor," he says.

There are five victors of District Two.

Aeneas Battlesmen, the victor of the first Hunger Games, which had launched District Two as one of the Capitol's favourite districts. He won by stabbing the girl from Five with a poisonous spiky plant. He's an icon in the Hunger Games, known for promoting the games throughout the districts and being the mayor of Two.

Freya Spangler, the victor of the sixth game, and the first female victor of the district. She was the Capitol's darling, known for her good looks and vicious fighting. Her games were the shortest in recorded history, destroying everyone in two days.

Aurora Rosner, the victor of the eighteenth game. One of the smartest tributes, known for tricking her tributes into eating nightlock. Even though her games weren't as bloody, the Capitol ate her up.

Phoebe Caesar, the victor of the twenty-third game, one of my best friends. She was the best female fighter in the academy, highly respected by everyone, and she had the best odds of winning, which was 3-1. She won by killing, nothing else.

Roman Troy, the victor of the twenty-fourth game, also the most recent victor. He was a brute, plowing through tributes like they were training dummies. His games were the bloodiest ever recorded.

Memorising all of the victors was a task you had to do in the academy. It was like a 'you could be here someday' type of motivation task. I liked this because it was like history of people killing people. Fantastic.

"Oh cool, the people getting her will be lucky," I say. Phoebe eats, breathes, and sleeps the games.

Aeneas greets the crowd, who roars with delight. He honours his late friend, the first President Starling, and reads the Treaty of Treason. Corinna Bleumont comes up, with a wig that's a bright pink. Rhea squeals beside me, she loves pink.

Alexis Penn is reaped, which was expected. She reminds me of Phoebe, brilliant with aim and fast. I know she'll do well in the games. Even though I hate the games, I still follow them just to keep up with who is signing up for their impending doom.

But then, Corinna says a name that should no longer be eligible for the games. One that managed to avoid them the first one. Who doesn't want to do anything with the games, or just plain killing. How do I know so much about this person? Well, because it's me.

Rhea looks at me with her big gold eyes curiously, and I can feel all the eyes on me. The crowd around me cheers, because Caydin Armon is _finally_ going into the games. I kiss her on the forehead and hand her to my mom, whose eyes are filled with tears. I put on a smirk, pretending that I'm happy when I'm not, and I wink at the crowd.

Some girls faint, which is a bit over dramatic and unnecessary. I full on smirk now, and the district is clapping.

I don't want to kill, I don't want to hurt people, but I will if I want to come home to Rhea. I'm going into the games.

I go onto the stage, winking at the camera once to get into the Capitol's good books, and stare at Alexis Penn, studying her. She's quite pretty, with wavy dark brown hair and stunning blue eyes. She is quite petite compared to my 6'4 stature, like she's an entire foot shorter. I nod at her.

Corinna licks her lips, looking me up and down. I'm disgusted, because Corinna is at least thirty years older than me and her makeup is awful.

She announces us as the 'ever so gorgeous' tributes from Two, and I shake Alexis' hand. Her grip is firm, which is good. That means she's not afraid to get nasty.

"Nice to meet you Alexis Penn, I think we will work _very well_ together," I say, and I mean it. There are not many female tributes I respect, but Alexis Penn has earned it. She looks at me weirdly, but says nothing as we wait in the rooms.

Ajax comes in, clapping me on the back. "Dude, I know two people that are going to be victors!" He cheers. "Phoebe's going to try to help you, but she can't guarantee anything because Alexis is a friend of hers as well."

I give him a half smile. "Thanks Ajax. I can always count on you."

"You're the strongest person I know, you've always been my idol in the academy. If anyone I know was to win, it was you. And if Phoebe won, someone you always beat, then you are almost guaranteed to win."

I hug him once. "You're an awesome dude Ajax, never forget that. I hope you and Phoebe will go steady for a while."

He looks at me in awe. "Me too."

It feels like I could finally breathe when my family visits me.

"Rhea!" I say, twirling my little ball of light in my arms. Tears well up in my eyes because I might _never see_ her again. I fidget with the bracelet on my wrist as I hug her tight.

"Son, congratulations," Dad says, beaming. "I'm so proud that your hard work is finally needed." He comes closer, his mouth in my ear. I grip Rhea tighter. "I have many friends in the Capitol son, you are almost guaranteed to win."

I nod stiffly, not happy at all about Dad bending the rules for me.

Mom pulls me into a tight hug, her golden eyes, just like mine and Rhea's, are flooded with tears. "Son, I love you so much," she whispers into my ear. "No matter what happens, no matter who you hurt or how damaged you become, you'll always be my baby boy. You have to come back to me."

"Where's Caydin going?" Rhea suddenly says. I freeze up, kissing her on the forehead and putting her down in front of me.

"Rhea, I'm going far, far away for a little bit. You don't need to worry about me."

"Are you going to save people with the pretty girl on stage?" she asks, her gold eyes confused. My heart clenches. Rhea's idolized me, but she doesn't know what awful things I'm going to do.

"I don't know where I'm going my little ray of sunshine, but can you remember one thing for me?" I look in her eyes, and she looks a little scared.

She bites her lips and nods her head bravely. "Yes I can Caydin."

"Okay. I love you with all of my heart, Rhea Ainsley Armon. You are what keeps me going, and what will keep me going," I kiss her on the forehead.

She nods, kissing my cheek. "I'll remember Caydin, because I always knew that." Rhea is such a smart little four year old. "Good luck for where you're going."

I smile, looking at the floor. "Thank you Rhea."

"Promise me you'll come back?"

"...I promise."

* * *

 **Awww I love these tributes so much. These guys aren't the typical Careers, aren't they? I think they'll be a strong alliance. :) Alexis Penn is the amazing Team Shadow's and Caydin Armon is the sweet i'mnotreallyademigod's. See you when the District 3 Female is filled up, guys!**


	4. Three- Will you miss me when I'm gone?

_**Warning! Abuse is mentioned in this chapter! Read at your own risk!**_

* * *

 _ **District 3**_

 _Will you miss me when I'm gone?_

* * *

 _Amy Wardong, 33_

 _District Three Female Tribute_

* * *

For such a smart district, most of the people of Three are idiots.

The stupid little girl is crying now, her tears making her look like a drowned rat.

"That's why you can't miss out on my assignments, _girl_ ," I sneer. "What would your parents say when they hear that their daughter's a stupid girl that got a zero?"

"No!" she pleads. "Please- please don't tell my parents. They- they'll get so angry, a- and my dad-"

She shutters, crying some more, and I just notice the scars lining up on her pale, skinny arms. My lip curls, but no ounce of sympathy comes. "Well, you should've thought about that before you _forgot_ to do the homework, shouldn't you? It's not my fault that Daddy hurts his little, stupid girl. Maybe he'll whack the idiocy out of you, finally do you some good." I get out dusting myself off of her filthy germs and head to my office. "I'm going to call him right now."

The girl rushes off the floor and runs to me. "PLEASE!" she shrieks. "Don't tell my dad, don't tell anyone. I'll do anything if you _don't._ I'll stay in, do double the exams, anything."

I laugh. "Why, so you could just fail them? No, Marjorie, you'll just have to deal with this at home. I'm not someone who gives out second chances, I'm a teacher. Here to guide you to where you're supposed to go."

I take out the student records, finding Marjorie Wilcox, and I ring up her father. He answers, gruff. I tell him about his daughter's dishonorable service by not completing her assignment, and he says he'll be here in a moment.

I smirk at her. She's sobbing in the corner, but I really don't care. I pull up a magazine and start to read.

The door opens and a middle age man appears, his expression angry and disproving. He nods at me and stomps to the stupid girl.

"You stupid, stupid girl. You really had the nerve to piss me off again." The man slaps her and the girl flinches and whimpers.

"Please Dad!" She cries as her father drags her away. Just another day with the stupid brats. I am so glad it's Reaping Day, finally time to get away.

I walk home, brats are out playing on the streets and I stalk over to them.

"Get lost, you don't wanna know what happens when the Peacekeepers find out little brats are out on Reaping Day." The stupid children scurry away, as if they're afraid of me.

I unlock my dirty old house. It's quiet, as usual, except for the loud purring of my old fat cat. I kick him, and stomp up the stairs to get ready. The shower is freezing and I curse.

I pull out a shirt from the laundry. It has stains and smells like the old leftover pizza from my fridge. The shirt barely fits, and I frown.

"Ugh, I have to buy a new one." I throw on a random pair of sweatpants I haven't washed in a month, and head downstairs.

I don't even try to brush my frizzy red hair, and my washed out blue eyes still look like the colour of a swamp.

"Here, fat cat," I say to him. The cat walks over, and I kick him, sprawling on the floor. I cackle, as I head to the square for the Reapings.

Cable Bobbin appears on stage, smiling wickedly at the crowd. People are talking loudly, and little brats surround the square. I roll my eyes, wanting to get home to watch the recaps of the reapings. One, Two, and Four always have some good eye candy. The others usually look skinny, depressed, and dying.

I blanche out, sneering at some of the people I teach, and fiddle with my shirt, wishing the stupid prat can hurry up with the reapings. We all want to go home.

"Amy Wardong!"

The entire district cheers, and I look around in disbelief. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" I yell, narrowing my eyes at the brats around me. "I EDUCATE YOU! I MAKE SURE YOU ARE PREPARED TO FAIL!"

The peacekeepers come forward, and I glare at them. They force me onto the stage, and tosses me to the ground.

"Ceemore Miller!"

The district doesn't cheer, and I curl my lip. Ceemore is another brat I have to teach, and he's a total waste of space. He won't make it past the bloodbath.

The district will regret putting me in the arena.

* * *

 _Ceemore Miller, 13_

 _DIstrict Three Male Tribute_

* * *

"I'm going to get reaped Angela," I groan.

Angela tilts her head to the side, not understanding. "What's getting reaped?" she asks.

I sigh. "Everyone's voting for someone to go to the silver city. They usually pick the person they like the least."

Angela frowns. "I like you," she says.

"Well, no one else likes me," I snap, crossing my arms.

She starts to cry, confused, and I hug her so she won't alert my parents. "I'm sorry," I say. Her cries become hitches as she calms down, snuggling into me, embracing me with her chubby arms.

"It's okay," she says, patting my back. "Since I like you, no one will want you to get reaped."

 _That's not the way it works,_ I almost snap, barely holding it in.

No one in the district likes me, it was a fact since I was little. Everyone liked my brother, who's 'good-looking', popular, and a prankster. I've lived in his shadow since I was younger, Mom and Dad always coddling him and Angela. I'm the middle child, smack dab not important. Lance fools around a lot, yet when I do well in school or on a project, Mom and Dad say nothing. If Lance gets some award for _most athletic_ or _best improvement_ , Mom and Dad jump on it. If I get _best marks_ or _high honours_ , they pretend I don't exist. It's a never ending cycle, and I wish one day it'll stop.

"Hey Ceebore, Mom and Dad want you to get ready now," Lance says, just walking into my room like it's his own.

"Lance!" Angela squeals.

"Hey Angie," he says, and I roll my eyes, getting off my bed and walking to the bathroom. I shower quickly, because Lance used up _all_ of the hot water, and get out my toothbrush to wash my teeth.

I have a plain grey collared shirt and faded blue jeans, hand me downs from Lance, and put it on. I don't have Lance's athletic figure, but it's not like I'm fat. I look okay, I just hope I don't have to go in.

The walk to the square is silent, something I really don't care about. Girls and boys alike are giggling around in their reaping clothes, some waving at Lance and Angela (none at me, they all don't like me), and talk loudly.

I groan, just wanting to go back home to my warm bed.

The mayor reads all about the Dark Days, something that's always fascinated me, and calls up Cable Bobbin, our escort since the first game. He pulls out the single slip from the bowl, and my teacher, Ms. Wardong, is reaped.

I whoop, so glad to be free from her, and she yells at the crowd. I snort at her overdramatics, she's the one who bullies her students for fun. I doubt she'll live to the night, probably going to die as soon as she steps off of the podium.

"Ceemore Miller!"

I purse my lips. Silence. Utter, and complete silence. No one is happy to have a thirteen year old reaped for the games. It's messed up and cruel.

I've expected this, but nonetheless hot shame flows through me, because not even my popular brother could save me from this. I walk up slowly to the stage, disgusted with myself and the district, and I will myself to feel bad.

 _I can win_ , I tell myself.

Cable forces us to shake hands, and I wish I have hand sanitizer on me right now, because Ms. Wardong is disgusting.

My parents visit me first, crying. I awkwardly hug them, not knowing what to say. "We love you," Mom cries, hugging me tighter. I think it's ironic that the only time they pay attention to me is the time I'm going to my impending death.

"Please be safe Ceemore," Dad says, tears welling up in his eyes. "Always remember that we love you."

Lance comes in next. "Sorry you got reaped Ceemore," he says, clapping me on the back.

"Yeah, I am too," I snap, crossing my arms.

"Hey! It's not like I chose you to go into the games. But Flux did, and so did Cordin…"

"Wow thanks," I say sarcastically.

"Maybe you could prank the tributes? Get them to fall to their deaths?" he suggests, and I snort at the idiocy that is my brother.

"Yeah yeah yeah, okay. Bye Lance," I say.

"Bye Ceemore," he says, clapping me on the back again.

Angela runs in next. "Why aren't you taking me to the movies with you?" she asks.

I sigh. "Angela, I'm not going to the movies. You know how I was talking about getting reaped?"

"Yeah," she says.

"Well, I'm going to the silver city and I'm not coming back. Tell Mom and Dad and Lance that I love them."

"Of course you're coming back!" she says. "You have to!"

"I don't know Angela," I say. "There are a lot of people that are trained to go into these games."

"Well, none of them are as smart as you!" she retorts.

"Yeah," I say. "Okay."

"Bye Ceemore, love you!" my little sister says.

"Bye Angie, I love you too."

 _None of them are as smart as you_.

* * *

 **Amy and Ceemore both belong to Tristan494. District Four is already done, and probably will be out tomorrow!**


	5. Four- People in a messed up world

**Shout out to MiniMustache for the hilarious review! The cat deserved better!**

* * *

 _ **District Four**_

 _We're just beautiful people in a messed up world_

* * *

 _Anemone Williams, 22_

 _District Four Female Tribute_

* * *

I got up early today, as usual, to jog.

It's been part of my training since I was ten, and I've never stopped. Especially for a day like today, I need to look my best.

I step outside my house, which is located in Victor's Village thanks to my mother, and look around. I smile to myself. If all goes to plan, I will be living here under my own name soon, as well.

"Hey Anemone!" my best friend, Ariel says. "Ready to jog?"

I smirk. "You bet I am."

We jogged around the coast, never once stopping. I admire the ocean once more as I jog, thinking that soon, it will be replaced by the beauty that is the Capitol.

Some boys from the training centers meet up with us. One, a guy named Brooks, takes off his shirt and throws it to the side, winking at me.

I flirtatiously smile, raking my eyes over his abs, and he smirks at me. I give my best _come hither_ look, and he comes closer.

"Anemone!" Ariel calls. "Let's go for a dip!"

He groans and I giggle, chasing Ariel into the ocean and stripping myself to my underwear. Many boys stare, and I wink at them. It's all a game anyway. Once I win, they will all mean nothing to me.

Eventually, people start to open the lights in their houses, signalling that they are awake and getting ready for this reaping. Ariel and I get out, running back to our houses in our underwear.

"So, are you excited for the reaping?" she asks as we jog back.

I smile excitedly. "Yeah. This time, no one can volunteer for me and take my glory," I say, thinking back to my other best friend, Wave.

Wave was a hit with the boys, like me, and she always managed to make me laugh. We knew everything about each other. On my last reaping, I was reaped, but before anything happened, Wave volunteered for me. Mom was sorely disappointed in both myself and Wave. Wave made it up as far as the feast, where the males from districts 10, 11, and 12 finally killed her. I was sad, yes, but now, I'll avenge her and kill the people from 10, 11 and 12.

Ariel looks a little sad, reminiscing our last moments with our friend. "May she rest in peace."

We make it home and I get into my house. Mom is humming an old tune when I get in, watering the plants. "Anemone, your bath is drawn. What you're going to wear is on your bed," she instructs, not even looking at me.

My little brother Shark is already dressed in a sky blue t-shirt and shorts, walking down. "Sharkie, you cleaned up. I was starting to think ugly was your only setting."

He puts his hand to his heart, pretending to be hurt. "Mone, you hurt me. I thought you'd be nice to me for my last reaping." We both laughed, and I jogged up the stairs.

I step into my bath, pleased the water was still warm, and wash all the sweat and salt off me.

A beautiful blue dress that matches my eyes is laid on my bed. I put it on and twirl, looking at myself in the mirror. With my blonde hair and blue eyes, it's clear that I won't have any problems with sponsors. I braid my hair and slip on some sandals, walking down the stairs.

"Mone, you look beautiful," my dad says. Dad and Mom have been together since after Mom won her game, which was the twenty-three years ago. She was the first ever female victor, renowned for her beauty and brains. She kickstarted District Four as one of the favourites for the Capitol, and released the term 'bloodbath' to the world with an interview with Augustus Silvermoon.

"Thanks Dad," I say smiling. "I really can't believe it's finally happening."

"Yes," Mom smirks. "No one can volunteer for these games, so the glory's all yours."

District Four's square is closest to the ocean, so it's surrounded by the smell of salt. The fountain of victors stands in the middle, with all of the victors' names etched into it. I can't wait until mine is on there as well.

Our mayor, a man whose son has been in and won the eighth game, stands on the stage beaming. "Hello citizens of Four! This year's propaganda will be great! Anyone whose chances were taken away a first time will be given another chance!"

We all whoop and cheer. The games were mostly loved, as we produced one of the highest amount of victors.

The Treaty of Treason was read, me mouthing along to the words, and Sergio Pastleston was welcomed to the stage.

"This year's tributes will be outstanding! Amazing! The lucky female tribute handpicked to go into the 25th Hunger Games is…"

I already stood up straight, waiting for my name to be heard all across Panem. "Anemone Williams!"

Shelly, another one of my friends, hugs me, tears of joy in her eyes. Ariel whoops so loud that I swear Sergio could hear us from up the stage. I saunter up the stage, beaming at the crowd.

Then Sergio calls out the boy's name, the one who will be joining me, and I smirk, because this tribute is not only good at fighting, but great at other _hands on_ things. "Elias Bryan!"

Elias Bryan is a handsome eighteen year old and one of the most popular in the district. An excellent fisherman and one of the best swimmers I know, second to only me of course, he will prove to be a strong ally and district partner. Four only sends the best. It's a shame that I'll have to kill him.

He walks up, his face expressionless. That shocks me, because anyone who was _handpicked_ into the games would normally be bursting out with happiness and pride.

Sergio beams at Elias, enamoured by his physique, and tells the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes from Four! Anemone Williams and Elias Bryan!"

The district is glowing with happiness as we make it off stage. We are no doubt some of the strongest this year, if not THE strongest. I smile to myself, it's like fate _wants_ me to win. Lining me up with these amazing games, the chance that _no one_ can volunteer, and giving me Elias Bryan as a partner is giving me the perfect lining to get the shining crown on my head.

Mom, Dad, and Shark enter the room, huge smiles on their faces. "You stole my spot," Shark jokes. I punch him on the shoulder, grinning.

"Whatever," I say, faux rolling my eyes.

Mom hugs me tight, absolutely beaming. "You are going to win, no doubt! I bet you'll game will be even shorter than that Freya Spangler's of Two's, you will be the best tribute in history!"

My smile only grows. "And since you've started in the academy, I knew you would turn out great. I'll see you soon Mone," Dad says, hugging me.

"Make sure you go to the cornucopia and get your axe, slaughter anyone in your way," Mom says.

The peacekeepers come in, and my family waves goodbye.

Shelly and Ariel come in, attacking me in hugs.

"You'll do amazing!" Ariel cheers.

"I know you'll win!" Shelly screams.

I smirk, because I know I will.

 _Watch your back people, you might find a knife in it._

* * *

 _Elias Bryan, 18_

 _District Four Male Tribute_

* * *

Four's a beautiful district.

My fishing boat glides effortlessly across the beautiful blue ocean. The guys, my friends, are chatting away, drinking some whiskey, a new luxury now that we're all eighteen. I stare out to the open water, wondering if I could float away from here to wherever the ocean takes me.

"Elias, dude, you not drinking?" one of my friends, Fisher, says.

I reply by taking the bottle in his hands and downing the entire thing. The guys around me whoop, and I manage a smile, my head spinning.

We laze around the ocean, sometimes checking out the nets and such, but we eventually pull the nets out, marvelling at the dozens of fishes we caught. We stuff them into the icy cool bag and head back to shore.

Girls around us giggle, and I wink at them. Shirtless boys are usually popular with the girls of Four. It isn't hard to find a 'bed-buddy' for me, as I am attractive, popular, and the girls of Four are absolutely gorgeous.

"Hey Elias!" One of them say. She's very pretty, with long, dark hair pulled into a wispy braid and bright blue eyes. Maybe after the reaping we can hang out.

I mouth ' _after'_ to her, and she giggles and winks. Fisher claps me on the back as we walk away, taking the fish to the shops.

"Dude, you strike again," he laughs. I smirk.

"I don't even know her name," I shrug. "She's hot, probably a good lay, but not something serious or anything."

"Yeah, dude, but you don't need to be serious right now. You already have Coral for that." My face turns red as Fisher reminds me of my best friend.

"Whatever," I say. "Let's just sell the fish."

Mags Flannagan opens the door for us as we enter her shop. She's a victor now, has been one for fourteen years. She's thirty now, but still as beautiful as she was when she entered the arena for the eleventh game.

"Boys," she greets, smiling largely. Her amber eyes glint, and she ties her curly auburn hair back into a ponytail.

"Mags," I say, hugging her. Mags is a second mom to me, maybe more of a big sister, but she's like family to me since I've met her, when I was begging for food. My parents died when I was young; no one knows how they did. "Still running a shop? You have a lot of money, you don't need to work."

"Elias, you do know that I only run it to see your ugly face." I hand her the fish, and she hands me the money. "I expect you to run the shop with Coral when I leave for mentoring the tributes this game. This year- this Quarter Quell's crazy, isn't it?"

I nod. "Yeah, but I think we'll be fine. Coral's probably safe, everyone's voting for Anemone Williams anyway. Her parents made sure of that."

"It's not my little sister I'm worried about," she says, looking worriedly at me. I nod the guys off, who eagerly leave, probably to find a good lay. "Teal's a crazy woman anyway, making her daughter go into the games. Promise me you'll be careful Elias?"

"I'll try Mags, really, I will. See you after you come back," I say, and she hugs me.

"See you later," she says.

I walk back to my house, something I just aquired as soon as I turned eighteen.

I hop into the shower almost immediately, brushing everything off of me. It's warm, but not scalding, and I reluctantly step out.

I wear a white button down and black jeans, happy with the way I look. My light brown hair looks windswept, and I grin in the mirror.

I look good, no denying it.

Coral joins me as I walk to the square, her pretty, curly brown hair is loose, the way I like it, and she's absolutely glowing. "Elias, you really got to stop with the girls. One almost tackled me today because you just left her without a note. You are _so lucky_ that I know how to punch bimbos."

I laugh, and she punches my shoulder. Coral really packs a punch. "Ugh, I really hope my sister cheapened out on you when she paid for the fish," she groans.

"Mags? No, she loves me Cor, everyone does!" I say, and she rolls her eyes.

"Sure."

Anemone Williams walks up the stage, clearly reaped, and she beams at the crowd. I remember sleeping with her once, probably for my eighteenth birthday, but nothing major. Coral is saying something, and I nod off, waiting to see who the male tribute is.

"Elias Bryan!"

Coral squeezes my hand, looking like her world exploded in front of her, and I walk up, keeping my expression neutral. I've expected this, popularity will give you this, but _damnit_ , I'll never get to grow old with Coral. I won't ever get to work in the fish shop with her again or have sandcastle wars with her.

Anemone smiles, but my eyes stay on Coral. Her eyes are watery, hands balled into fists, and she looks straight forward.

A gaggle of girls visit me first, all crying and giving me hugs and kisses. The pretty girl from earlier is here too, and she kisses me on the lips.

"I'm leaving for just a little while and you girls are crying like it's the end of the world." They giggle nervously, unsure of what to say. "Don't worry, you'll all get the newest victor after this."

They shower me in hugs, wishing me good luck. "Cheer for me in the games?" I wink. The pretty girl winks back, and the girls leave.

My friends come in next, led by Fisher. "Good luck dude," he says, giving me a man hug.

"Thanks guys," I grin, hugging them all.

As they walk out, I call back at them.

"Hey, make sure you don't wreck my boat while I'm gone!" I call. Fisher flips me off, laughing as he leaves.

Coral comes in last.

She bursts in, practically fuming, and punches me repeatedly.

"You just had to be SO DAMN LIKABLE!" she yells, kneeing me in the family jewels. I groan, covering the sensitive part with my hands. "You stupid, stupid jerk."

Her laugh's watery, and I hug her. Her pretty green eyes are tear filled, the waterworks just threatening to come.

"I don't want to say goodbye," she says, her voice muffled with my shirt.

"Then don't," I say.

"What do I say instead?" she asks, and I can feel her eyebrows raise.

"How about I love you."

She cries into my shirt now, and my heart breaks. "I love you, you stupid oaf. Just come back."

"I love you too," I say, hugging her tighter.

The Peacekeepers come in, probably with the intention of taking her, and I hold onto her tighter.

"Don't!" I say. The Peacekeepers ignore me, one sneers, and force her out of my arms.

"I love you!" I call back.

"I love you too!" she says, desperately clawing back at me.

I sigh, crying into my hands, feeling like my universe was ripped out of my hands.

I trace the coral in my pocket, hoping I can see her again, if only for a brief moment.

* * *

 **Yay! They're finally out! Anemome is the lovely Caterpillar's and Elias is the fantastic laurenyeeann's! I'm on vacation, so District Five will probably have a delayed update! Again, if you want your tribute to live as long as you wanted them to, review and tell me what you think of these tributes so far!**


	6. Five- Memories don't remind, they haunt

_**District Five**_

 _Memories don't remind, they haunt_

* * *

 _Heather Myra, 12_

 _District Five Female Tribute_

* * *

The town square is bustling with life as we walk through it.

People are rushing in and out of shops, hushing their children, and all around talking and spending time with their family.

Jaime and I walked through. Some people stop and give me a weird look, but I smile back at them. I look at some of the shoes in the shoemaker's shop, wondering if Dad would let me get some new ones. I decide against it as Jaime strikes a conversation with the shoemaker's daughter.

"Hi Electris," Jaime says, smiling at the pretty eighteen year old. I beam at her, and she smiles back.

"Hello Jaime, Heather, how are you guys today?" her voice is soft, like she's talking to little kids.

"Good, Electris. How are you?" I say.

"As good as anyone on their last day of being reaped." She gives us a half smile, cleaning some of the shoes on the display case. I move to help her, but she nods her head no. Jaime pats my back. "Are you girls interested in buying some shoes?"

"Maybe," I say, admiring a pair of pretty pink ones. "I really like those ones."

"Oh!" she says. "These ones cost 10 gold coins."

"Oh okay," I bite my lip. Dad won't be happy with this transition, even though he's usually okay with this. It's getting to _that time_ of year, and with the added weight of it being my first reaping, it's easy to say this won't be a good time to buy new shoes that I don't need at the moment. "Maybe after the reapings."

Electris nods, and Jaime and I head out of the store. We stop by the florists, as the colourful flowers fill the shop with life.

"Hello Camellia!" I say, smiling brightly at her as well. Camellia comes over to us, her light blonde hair wrapped into a tight bun.

"Hello Heather and Jaime," she says warmly, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "Need any help with the flowers today?"

"No," I say. "Just looking for some for her, it's getting to that time of year again."

Camellia embraces me, just as she does every single year since I started coming into her shop. I snuggle back into her embrace, needing a hug for today. "Thank you," I whisper.

"No need," she says.

I look around for the dahlias, and find them. I smell them, remembering the reason my father told me she adored them. I pick them up and walk to the counter. I place the three gold coins on the table.

"Oh, Heather dear, you don't need to pay for those today. They're on the house," she hands back the coins to me, but I refuse.

"No, it's okay. You've just helped me a lot, there's no need for that."

"Maybe you just need a bit of good luck today. Kelly always came in, with the same light in her hazel eyes as yours. Always took the pink dahlias," she says.

Jaime smiles at her. "Thanks Camellia, see you later."

As we walk to the graveyard, I notice Jaime tugs me forward as I try to look around. "Jaime, what are you doing? We don't need to rush!" I exclaim.

She continues to tug me forward, not letting me look around. People bustle back home, getting ready for the reapings. "Your dad wanted you to be home earlier to get ready," she replies. I nod, and rush up with her.

I place the fuchsia dahlias on the ground on top of the grave, tears dripping down my face. "It's another year Mom," I whisper. "I'm twelve now, and I'm eligible for reapings now. I wish I could see you, I know you're beautiful. You'd know how to feel for today."

Jaime squeezes my hand, hugging me, and I cry. First, it was me and my father coming together, but it stopped as Dad became more successful. Jaime came with me instead, making sure I won't break to the fullest every time I visit. It's been eleven years, and I still haven't learned to compose myself.

"Bye Mom."

I look once again at the grave, reading over the words that's haunted me since I was little.

 _Kelly Myra  
Loving wife, mother, friend, and daughter  
Died 13 AR  
_' _The only thing stronger than hate is hope.'_

We head to my house, and Jaime hugs me again. "You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," I manage a weak smile. "I'm fine."

She gives me one last look as she walks back to the mayor's mansion, where she lives. Her father is prepping for the reapings.

The house is empty as I walk in, nothing really happening. I walk up to the bedrooms, hearing a sob as I pass by my father's, and lock myself into my room.

I open the scrapbook my father gave me four years ago. To me, it is more valuable than any piece of gold or silver he's ever given me. My mother's laughing face greets me, and a tear slips onto the page.

I flip through, looking at my mother smile, laugh, groan, and pout. One catches my eye as it always does.

My mother is laughing at something, and the photographer caught her pearly white teeth. My father looks at her in the corner, a look of pure happiness overriding his features. I stifle a sob, closing the book and laying it on my bed.

I dig through my closet, looking for the box my father gave a long time ago. "Aha!" I say, grabbing it out and pulling it onto my lap.

The box is full of my mother's old clothes, things I prefer to wear over my new fancy dresses. It makes me feel more secure, like the clothes are a mother's embrace, yet not.

A pretty white and blue dress catches me eye, and I grin triumphantly as I pull it on. I braid my brown hair and walk down.

"Hey sunshine." My dad hugs me tight, and I hug him back. His voice is weak. "It's a big day, isn't it."

"Yeah Daddy," I say. "I'm scared."

"Don't worry sweetheart, nothing going to hurt you. I'll make sure of it."

I nod, and hold his hand as we walk through the town to the square. He kisses me on the forehead, telling me he loves me and good luck, then leaves.

The needle prick is quick and a bit painful, and the bored Peacekeeper lets me go. I stand beside Jaime in the twelve year old section, waiting for Jaime's father to come onto the stage.

Connor welcomes everyone and proceeds to the reading of the Dark Days. He then welcomes Paulie Valentine, whose hair is so green it puts the grass to shame.

"Today's a marvelous day!" He beams, surveying the crowd. "The lucky lady going into the games is…"

His pale, bony hand reaches inside the glass bowl and pulls out a lone, white slip of paper. "Heather Myra!" he reads.

I gasp, and start to cry. "Dad!" I shriek, running over to the adult section behind us. "DAD!"

"Heather!" he says, and he's crying too. I run closer as he says that, but strong arms pull me back. I whack the arms, but it's no use.

"Daddy!" I scream. "Please, no no no no no. Please!"

My dad just cries, staring at me, but not moving. He knows it's a lost cause as well. The Peacekeepers hoist me onto the stage, and I stare dully at the audience. "Why?" I whisper. "What did I ever do to you?"

The crowd says nothing, and Paulie Valentine awkwardly coughs. "Erm, and now for the gentleman joining her."

He pulls the slip out and calls out, "Walt Emerson!"

An old man who looks like he's lived a thousand years walks up, his kind eyes tired. I sob, because it's not fair. It isn't fair at all. The youngest person in the district and one of the oldest are going into the games. It's cruel, and not right, because the district CHOSE us.

Dad comes rushing in, tears streaming down his face. He hugs me tight, rubbing my back. "It'll be alright sunshine," he whispers. I cry into his suit jacket, clutching onto him.

"Why Daddy?" I ask. "Why?"

"I don't know princess, but I'll make sure whoever made this up will pay."

I nod numbly, just hugging him. Eventually, the peacekeepers pull us apart, but my father almost fights them before he reluctantly leaves.

Jaime comes in next. "Hey Heather," she says softly, hugging me. I cry, and she hugs me tighter. "Try to fight, okay?"

"Okay." My voice is hollow, and she hugs me again before dropping a necklace into my hands. "This is yours."

"Thank you," I whisper.

Camellia comes in too, tears streaming down her face, and she tells me to be careful. I try to listen, but I don't know how to. The room is suffocating me, and I don't know how to stop it.

* * *

 _Watt Emerson, 80_

 _District Five Male Tribute_

* * *

" _DAD!"_

I wake up with a start, looking around to see that I'm only in my bedroom. It's dark, and the only light is the soft glow of the rising sun. I sigh, rubbing my eyes and stretching. My old body moans in pain as I stretch.

I step out of bed and head to the kitchen. Memories haunt me, remembering her screams, and I groan. Cereal is breakfast, and I chew it. Photos all around remind me of my four girls, and how they left too early from this world.

Heller's beautiful amber eyes haunt me, and the big smile on her face is forever stuck in the photo. My lovely wife died last year, due to old age and the grief for our little girls.

" _They're gone," she whispered. "All three of them- just gone."_

 _She sobbed into my arms, clutching the picture. "Spark, Vida, Bina, oh my little darlings."_

" _Sh," I said. "They're in a better place now."_

" _But still! It's not fair, they were so young, so full of life! Why is the Capitol so cruel?"_

" _I don't know," I said, holding her tight. "But we can't live our life in sorrow, the girls don't want us to be like that."_

She lost the fight and joined our daughters in the stars, leaving me here.

" _Heller?" I called. "Heller darling?"_

 _Nothing answered. The house seemed bigger than it was, empty. I headed up to my bedroom, and gasped in horror._

" _NO!" I yelled, clutching her lifeless hand. "Heller! Heller! Heller, come back! Please, please. Don't leave me here!"_

 _She didn't answer. I sobbed into her dead body, clutching her cold, lifeless hand. "Heller, darling, please."_

 _She never answered again._

I run my hand over one of Spark's photos. My youngest is laughing as I chase her, probably only five at the time. I remember that moment vividly, the sound of her laughter ringing in my ears.

" _I'm going to get you Spark!" I called. She giggled, sprinting forward, and running further away from me._

 _Her older sisters, Bina and Vida, stayed with their mom, making dinner. Spark hid behind a tree. I creeped up behind her._

" _Boo!" I said. She jumped, latching onto me._

" _Daddy!" she exclaimed. "You scared me!"_

" _It's okay Spark, Daddy won't hurt you," I said._

" _I know, Daddy," she replied._

The other only time she called me that loudly was the time she was killed and tortured for information on the rebellion she didn't participate in.

" _I don't know anything, I swear," she pleaded, looking at the peacekeeper._

 _He sneered, punching her again. "Lies, girl. Tell me all you know and you'll live."_

" _I don't know anything!" she cried. There was a loud smack, and sobbing was heard._

" _Spark!" I called, running to the source. Peacekeepers hold me back, and I plead for them to let me get to my daughter._

 _They sneered, but didn't do anything. I heard Spark's cries, her begging to be free, but the thing that haunted me comes in._

" _DAD! Dad, help! DAD! DAD! DADDY!"_

 _ **Boom.**_

 _And the world goes silent. Nothing was heard after that, after the gunshot. I sob, and the peacekeepers drop me. "Tell no one."_

Bina and Vida were grief-stricken, but Heller was broken after that.

" _She's gone," Bina whispered, and Vida hugged her mother. Heller looked out into space, beyond the house._

" _It isn't fair," Vida cried. "Spark had nothing to do with the rebellion! She isn't involved at all! They're just trying to point fingers."_

That got them captured later, and then killed.

" _Ah!" I looked over to the neighbour's house, and to my horror, there were many white Peacekeeper uniforms. I bolted out, kissing Heller and telling her to stay there._

 _On the ground, in the middle of the circle of Peacekeepers, are my two other girls, with blood leaking out of their gunshot wounds, and a look of anger on their open eyes. Bread was loosely in their possession, and I sobbed, running to the middle and clutching their bodies._

" _No, not another one," I sobbed._

 _Heller came out, running towards me and crying with me, over the dead bodies of our remaining beautiful girls._

I get out, wash the dish and put it back, and walk over to my room. I wear a simple white t-shirt and khakis, and get out.

"Hello Mr. Emerson!" one of the neighbourhood kids, five year old Zippina, says, beaming at me.

"Hello Zippina," I smile warmly at her. "How are you today? Is Albert here too?"

"I'm good," she says.

We walk to the square, and all the other children join us. They stand with me and their parents as we watch the reapings.

A twelve year old girl named Heather Myra, daughter of the corrupt factory owner, is reaped, and tears flow to my eyes as a little girl is taken from her family, cruel father or not.

"Why?" she asks the district, and my heart breaks. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Watt Emerson!"

I look around, surprised but happy that a child isn't reaped and to be with my girls again, as I walk to the stage. The entire crowd burst with protests, some saying " _No one voted for him!"_ or " _Why him?"_. The Peacekeepers lift their guns, and the crowd silences.

Poor little Heather is shaking, tears welled up in her face. When we shake hands, I tell her it will be alright.

The neighbour kids, all ten of them, Albert, Isaac, Tricity, Deena, Ally, Wyatt, Freddie, Nina, and little Zippina all visit me, embracing me with hugs.

"It's rigged!" Tricity, the oldest at thirteen, exclaims. "I know for a fact that no one voted for you, much less the entire district!"

"She's right!" Isaac says. "No one would ever want you in the games, people only wanted Dave Myra to go to them!"

"It's okay," I say. "It's better for me to go, I'm an old man guys."

"But still!" Wyatt protests. "It's not fair!"

"I'll be happy no matter what guys. You guys are brilliant kids with a bright future, you'll figure it out."

Deena and Ally give me a bracelet. "So you remember us," Freddie says.

As the children leave, I smile at them, knowing I'll be dead in a few weeks.

* * *

 **Another one! So Heather Myra is the extraordinary Team Shadow's and Watt Emerson is the marvelous MiniMustache. I'm gone for a week, so District 6's update will be slower. Bye! :)**


	7. Six- Risking my life for yours

_**District Six**_

 _Risking my life only means a better one for you_

* * *

 _Shannon Farley, 84_

 _District Six Female Tribute_

* * *

The children dance around the square, happiness and content written all over their features. It warms my heart, knowing these kids will live another year, if not for a long time. People are talking, and I wave at them, saying goodbye.

I finger the heart shaped locket the district gave me as a goodbye present and a thank you gift. I've lived a full life, with a lot of love and cherished moments, and I knew that I could die now. For my life, one that's existed even before the rebellion, can end in place of a child's.

"Hello Shannon," Honda says, giving me a hug. His two daughters, one twelve and the other thirteen, clutch his hands on either side, both giving me a wide smile. My heart warms knowing they will live, not having to be voted into these games.

"Hello Honda, Tesla, and Aurelia, lovely day today, isn't it?" I offer a smile, and the girls nod.

"Yes, it is." He moves in closer, his breath tickling my ear. "Thank you," he whispers.

I sadly smile at him. "It is the only way to help them, I'm an old lady Honda, your girls and many other children will not have to fear for their lives."

He nods, and the girls wave goodbye to me as they walk away to join their mother. I walk past the small little bakery run by Edwin Rail and his family and walk in.

"Hi Edwin," I say.

His wide, sad smile greets me. "Shannon," he says, wiping his hands on a cloth. "How are you?"

"Good," I say. "May I have a piece of zatar, just for one last time?"

He nods, and I reach to hand him the money. "No, Shannon, there is no need for you to pay. You are helping many of us by sparing one of the district's daughters."

He hands me the piece of zatar, a flatbread with thyme, olive oil, and sesame seeds, a traditional bread in Six. "For the future."

Zatar is used for goodbyes and hellos, the wild thyme giving you the strength to heal. I take a bit, remembering the slightly minty flavour of it, for I might never have it again. A lone tear drips down my cheek as I come to peace with the fact that this is the last time I will ever eat at Rail's.

As I hug Edwin, his wife, and four kids goodbye, their salty tears mixing with mine, I sigh at the feeling that I will never see them again. "We all love you," Edwin says, giving me one last piece of zatar. "For good health."

I visit Sunset Lake once more, reminiscing the time me and my departed husband, Lucian, dancing on the rocks under the stars. I glide my hands across the blue water, watching the birds float on the lake. I sit down on the rocks, taking off my shoes and dipping my feet in the cool water.

"I miss you Lucian," I sigh, the wind softly blowing my long grey hair. "I'll be with you soon."

Next, I visit the rocks, where Lucian had built a little rock hut for our children Joseph, Laura, and Margaret. I can remember their little giggles, as they hid behind the rocks, hoping Daddy won't find them. My children are no longer that little, the rebellion and years of stress for the games have aged them, just as they've aged me.

The old hollow tree just a few minutes away from the rocks looks just like I've found it. An old tire swing is strapped to it, the memory of my grandchildren, Bella, Andrew, and Michael, sitting on it, being pushed by their parents, comes rushing to me. Andrew and Michael are sixteen now, and Bella is fourteen. I know my children will only rest when they turn eighteen. I was fortunate enough to have my children too old for the games.

I sit down on the swing, moving up and down. A serene smile crosses my features as I relax into the swing. The birds fly, and the butterflies flutter, making it a beautiful final scene to watch.

I get up from the swing, dusting the bit of dirt off of my dress, and I head to the library. The librarian gives me a nod and a smile, and I walk to the little nook I always sat in. The old, dusty leather book is tucked into the corner, and I grab it. I flip to my favourite page, and read the same poem I've read since I was little.

' _Life was not my choice  
That does mean I cannot rejoice  
I heard my inward voice  
Baby just try and maintain poise!_

 _It starts in the loving arms of a mother  
And the careful guidance of a father  
Irritating a sister or brother  
Each day walking a little step further_

 _In between the beginning and the end  
God sent me a little friend  
To comfort, her shoulders she lent  
My broken pieces she started to mend_

 _One day you'll meet a nice lad  
People might warn you, "when in love you go mad"  
You will find yourself swing from being happy to sad  
In the end I'll tell you it will not be bad_

 _Your children will lead you to go East to West  
When you draw close to life's test  
Growing weary you will need to rest  
Remember only love gives you the best.'_

I smile to myself, and scribble down a little note on a scrap of paper I found.

' _Life is an adventure. Family, friends, and happiness will get you through. I've chosen my path for the people of the district, the people I love, so no one will have to give up a loved one today. -Shannon Farley'_

I kiss the piece of paper and stick it onto the page. The librarian waves goodbye, and I wave back, heading home to make sure the things I leave behind for my children.

Ford Denholm is swinging on the porch beside his wife, his smile content. My neighbors beem at me, and I walk back to them.

"Hello Shannon," he greets. His wife Kiva, one of my good friends, waves, her bright blue eyes smiling as well.

"Hey Kiva and Ford," I say. Kiva comes up to hug me, and I hug her back.

"I'm going to miss you Shan," she says, shaking a little. "The neighbourhood is never going to be the same without you."

"I'll miss you too," I mutter. "But you better put my children in check after I'm gone, they will all be out of whack."

She laughs, a watery one, and hugs me tighter. "Of course we will, we've known Joe, Lau and Marge for a long time, since they were in diapers. We held our kids together, right?"

I nod. Axle and Joseph are best friends, and their families are very close, with Michael, Andrew, and Bella being very close with Rider, Diesel, and Bentley. "Thank you, Ki," I say earnestly.

Ford comes up, hugging me too. "Thanks Shannon, we all owe you one."

I walk into my house and look at the boxes.

The one labeled ' _Joseph'_ has old pictures of his children, baby photos of him, old things we've kept of him, and his baseball glove. I've given him some other things, such as a few photos of me and Lucian, and the gold trophy from his little league games. The last is a letter his father wrote for him on his deathbed, and a collection of letters for his children, Michael and Andrew, and himself.

The other, one neatly labeled ' _Laura'_ , contains old photos once again, these times of collections from the school talent shows, photos of Bella, and photos of me and Lucian. I kept her rock that she had from a long time, and left her Mr. Snuffles, her old stuffed animal. Letters were left to her as well, one from Lucian, and a few from me to give to her and Bella.

The last is for my youngest, my tough Margaret. She was always a brainy and intelligent girl. I kept all of her writing pieces, some she poured her entire heart and soul into. I gave her the old arts and craft projects she gave to us, signs of her creativity and skill. Old journals I had when I was younger were in the box, along with a recording of the poem. Lucian's letter for our baby girl is in it, along with my collection of letters for her.

The house is empty now, but not with memories and love. Lucian carrying me through the threshold long before the rebellion had happened in this house, our smiles much more carefree from a time before Panem, a time before this mess. I remember carrying a soft and adorable baby Joseph, his giggles and gurgles still filling my head. Little Laura coming in a soft pink blanket, a two year old Joseph being carried by Lucian looking curiously at his baby sister. Margaret's cries filling the room as we carry her in, Joseph and Laura peering down at her. Joseph holding his glove, after catching a ball for the first time. Laura singing and grinning because her voice was like an angel's. Margaret smiling proudly when she wins the best writing piece in the district. Joseph getting married, wearing a crisp white shirt and a huge smile, as he kisses his new blushing bride Clair. Michael and Andrew crying softly as Joseph and Clair hold their children proudly. Laura in a long white dress, looking as beautiful as ever, with her handsome husband Sam beside her. Bella, my precious only girl grandchild, opens her blue eyes, already stealing our hearts. And Margaret, standing proudly with her siblings, love filling her eyes.

I clutch my heart to the ground, sobbing at what I'm going to miss, and who I'm leaving behind. I chose this fate, I asked to be reaped, because I looked at my grandchildren, looked at the girls and boys of our district, who are so young and have so much more to do.

I wipe my eyes, and get up, heading to the square.

The readings were silent, mourning, and I know what's coming next. When the escort opens the slip of white paper, I'm already heading forward.

"Shannon Farley."

I sadly smile, waving goodbye to the district, and make my place beside Vanity Askerold.

Vanity opens the male slip, and my heart freezes because _no, not him_. Ford Denholm walks up, a look of absolute heartbreak and betrayal is written all over his face, and Kiva is sobbing to the ground. I look away, because a man I've known for a long time, one I've raised my children with, is reaped. I know why he was reaped, to take the place of a child, but it's not fair.

We shake hands, and a tear slips from both of our eyes.

My family comes in, Joseph, Laura, and Margaret all clutching me like their life depends on it. I softly kiss their heads, hugging them closer to me.

Clair embraces me warmly. "Take care of my son," I say. "Make sure he'll be okay."

She covers her mouth and sobs, and I kiss her forehead.

Sam hugs me as well. "Laura will brave through this, she always does," he whispers. My heart warms, knowing that my children will be okay.

Michael and Andrew come, and I kiss them on the temple. "Nana, don't go," Andrew pleads.

"Please," Michael says. "We all still need you. We can't live without you!"

"It's okay guys," I say. "You guys will be fine. I'll be with Papa now, looking at you from the stars."

Their faces are set, but they move anyway, tears streaming down their face.

Bella runs to me. "Nana, please, please, please. I love you so much, please Nana, don't go," she cries.

I kiss her head, and she sobs into my arms. "I love you too Bella, and you are strong enough to get through it, just like your mama."

The Peacekeepers come in, and I say my final words to them. "Do one thing for me. Live a long, peaceful life, because you only deserve the best. There are my things for you, in the house, and I know you'll cherish them. I love you all, and you'll get through this."

They leave, and I sink to the ground.

 _I'll be with you soon Lucian._

* * *

 _Ford Denholm, 78_

 _District Six Male Tribute_

* * *

Kiva's quiet laugh breaks me out of my thoughts.

"Ford, Augustus Silvermoon is absolutely ridiculous!" she exclaims, her sky blue eyes bright and wide with laughter. Her long brown hair, greying from the stress and age, is tied into a loose bun. Her deep smile lines etch her face, adding to her laughter.

I smile at her. "Yes, yes he is."

"Well, there's speculation that he's dying his hair bright green, just to honour the late President Starling. I think just dying his hair that colour is absurd!" she giggles again, showing me the television, where there shows a very green Augustus Silvermoon. I laugh along with her.

"Are Axle and the kids coming for lunch after the reapings?" I ask as she starts preparing something.

She nods. "Mercedes will have to work for a little bit, because she has to load the train, but yeah, she'll come a little later. Axle's bringing the kids."

"Oh okay." I walk over to the television and switch the channel, which is featuring the district lottery. A twelve year old girl from Two wins, getting free supplies for anything.

"Oh dear," Augustus says, wiping a tear. "Such a huge prize for such a small ticket. Congratulations to Lace Turner from District One again. The next lottery draw is next week, and it will be a very special one because of the games. Two winners!"

One lottery ticket is the same cost as an entire month's worth of bread, therefore only the wealthier districts, One, Two, Four, and occasionally Three, buy them. Sometimes there would be a rare occurrence that an outer district wins, but that is only 1% of the time.

"Ford, let's have some breakfast."

The television makes up for the comfortable silence between me and my wife. She's still as beautiful as ever, her eyes soft and warm. Her kindness and heart just radiates off her. She pulled me out of my misery when I was younger, and mended my heart. She's my everything, my heart and soul.

We turn the television off and go outside, sitting on our porch. Children run around, and eventually get called inside to get ready for Reaping Day. People clip laundry to the lines, others chatter as they wash the clothing. Some tinker with old, no longer used Capitol parts, and the neighbourhood is filled with life.

Shannon Farley comes, in a simple grey summer dress, and Kiva's breath hitches. Kiva and Shannon have been close for years, we've known them before the rebellion, before this new era started. We've moved into the neighbourhood at around the same time, and raised our children together. The Farleys, Shannon, Lucian, Laura, Joseph, and Margaret, have all been really close family friends. It was a tragedy when Lucian died last year, and it broke Shannon on the inside. I remember when Shannon would come visit Kiva, with tears streaming down her pale face.

Shannon asked to be reaped in order to take a place of a younger life, a little girl. Kiva cried and cried for days when Shannon told her, heartbroken to lose another friend, especially one of the Farleys.

"Hello Shannon," I smile warmly at her. Kiva softens a little, her breathing becoming normal, and she waves and smiles at one of her oldest friends.

Kiva goes over to hug her, and I can see that she's still heartbroken about the fact that Shannon will go soon. Shannon hugs her back warmly, and the two friends, kind of like sisters, have what seems like a final goodbye.

"Hey Kiva and Ford," she says, her eyes smiling.

Kiva quakes a little. "I'm going to miss you Shan." She looks around the neighbourhood, looking at the life around us. "The neighbourhood is never going to be the same without you."

"I'll miss you too," Shannon mutters into Kiva's shoulder. "But you better put my children in check after I'm gone, they will all be out of whack."

I nod, but I don't think Shannon notices. Kiva grasps on her, laughing sadly. "Of course we will, we've known Joe, Lau, and Marge for a long time, since they were in diapers. We held our kids together, right?"

I remember that. Joseph was very little, a few months old, and I remember Shannon and Lucian taking him over here to visit the new baby in the neighbourhood, our son Axle. They hit it off right away, becoming close friends for the rest of their lives.

"Thanks Ki," she says softly.

I go up to her, hugging her tightly as well. "Thanks Shannon, we all owe you one."

She walks away, and Kiva breaks down. I comfort her, wrapping my arms around her.

"It's- it's not fair," she sobs. "Shannon is such a good person, why'd she do this?"

"Because she's such a good person," I say soothingly. "She'll be happier with Lucian, in the skies. She wouldn't want you to be sad."

She sniffles. "I know, it's just- I'll miss her so much."

"Me too Kiv," I say. "Me too."

She gets up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. "Well, we should get ready to go to the Reapings now," she shakily says. "It's now or never."

I take her hand and walk to the square.

The square is solemn, like they're already saying goodbye to their tributes. Shannon Farley is like the mother of the district, caring for everyone to the point that she'll sacrifice her life for them. I don't know who the male is, but I know he'll be a hard hit for the district as well.

The mayor is in a black dress, one you'd wear for a mourning, her flaming red hair contrasting against it. She reads the treaty with a grave monotone, broken by who's going in.

Vanity Askerold is the only one happy to be at the reaping, and joyfully reads Shannon's name. Kiva cries into my shoulder, and the district is quiet, respecting her. She smiles sadly and waves, accepting the fate of the games.

"Ford Denholm!" Vanity says bubbly, her bright yellow hair suddenly making me nauseated.

Kiva collapses to the ground, and I freeze.

I'm going to die. It's not fair, why me? What will happen to Axle, Mercedes, Bentley, Diesel, and Rider? What about my darling Kiva? It's not nice, I've done nothing awful to the district. But if they did reap me, they must have a stellar reason to.

I walk up, my tears being kept in, as I kiss my sweetheart on the head. Shannon turns away shaking, and Vanity tells us to shake hands. A tear slips from her face, and I'm pretty sure one slips from mine's as well.

Kiva, Axle, Mercedes, Bentley, Diesel, and Rider all come in, hugging me tightly. Kiva and I share a look, telling each other that we love each other, and will miss each other. Axle cries, as does his family, including Rider who is usually grumpy, being seventeen. The Peacekeepers pry them off me, and I whisper, " _I love you,"_ to them one last time. They nod sadly, and are ushered out.

Harley, my last remaining friend, as the others are either departed or seperated from me, comes in. He solemnly pats me on the back, but his eyes are extremely watery. When he leaves, he almost collapses, choking a little.

I sit on the couch with my face in my hands, fingering my gold wedding ring, the only anchor I have left.

* * *

 **Okay to be honest I almost cried doing this chapter. It's just so sad! I'm on vacation now and managed to get this done in my free time, but District Seven might not be out for the next few days. We're half way through! Can you believe it? Tell me what you think so far, just as the half way whooper. Zatar came from an awesome fic called _'Our Daily Bread'_ by vifetoile89, check that out! Oh! And I almost forgot, Shannon is the brilliant laurenyeeann's and Ford is the stellar Author-Hime. See you next time! :)**


	8. Seven- Hate is my worst enemy

_**District Seven**_

 _Hate is my worst enemy_

* * *

 _Willow Feyr. 16_

 _District Seven Female Tribute_

* * *

The wind blows as I sit under my tree, which is ironically a willow tree.

The book in my hands is captivating, and the scene of the forest below is calming. _The Golden Days_ by Zelous Kingsman is a brilliant and witty book, telling us about the times before Panem, about a place called America.

He described a huge white house, where the president, the leader of the great nation called the United States of America, lives, along with his family. His wife will be called the First Lady, and his children are launched into a dangerous game. He, unlike the current president, has something called a vice-president, someone who is right under the president.

The way he describes the nation, along with others, fascinates me. Hollywood, like the Capitol, is where the celebrities and rich live. Unlike the Capitol, there is movies and models and singers, and just anything around there. There are beautiful sandy white beaches and ocean blue seas near Hollywood, something we could only dream of in District Four.

Then he suggests that there are seven other huge bodies of land, continents, among us, not just Panem, or North America. There is South America, where is it close to the equator and tropical, Africa, the poorest in the world, Europe, a popular tourist destination, Asia, the largest, Australia, the one with the large bugs, and Antarctica, the coldest. I didn't believe it when I first read it, but I eventually saw a map of the world, and knew that there was a place far from Panem, far from all of this.

I know that one day, I want to escape Panem and explore outside, visit a place called Canada, which is above us, or a place called Santorini, in Europe. I wish to see the world beyond Panem, escaping the Capitol and the games.

Books like these are illegal. Many call it a myth, something that isn't real at all. Panem, or more specifically the Capitol, tells us that only Panem remained, and that Panem was saved by the Capitol, the only living place on the planet.

Zelous Kingsman himself was arrested and hanged for writing such a treacherous and false book, but I know that he was correct. In the black market, there are some relics of the old days, like sheet music for pianists like Beethoven and Mozart. There are books like Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, all banned from Panem, not to be touched or seen.

I went through a big deal of begging to get my dad to give me the book that's been passed down his family for years. He was reluctant, not wanting to put me in harm's way, but I turned his mind around. He finally gave in, giving me the book.

My dad was the victor of the fourth Hunger Games, being the first of the outlying districts to ever win the games. He won with wit and heart, but was broken after the games, having seen too much. He met my mother soon after, and had me five years after the games.

He got wealth, riches, and security, making him one of the wealthiest in a poor district. I grew up with anything I wanted at my fingertips, yet I didn't need all of it. I tried giving things to others once but they beat me. After that, I never tried helping again. Many hate me because of my wealth, thinking me as a 'snob' for being rich. When I get top of my class, the people would rip my report card in half, telling me that my daddy just paid my way through school. I don't fight because I don't want to make a big deal out of it, it'll all be over soon.

These games are brutal this year. Getting to choose the person you let in? Easily the way to get rid of the stupid airhead that doesn't deserve anything she gets. When I asked them about it, they just laughed in my face.

" _Can't your daddy just buy your way through the games?"_

I didn't ask after that.

My dad, since he's one of the two victors of our district, is mentoring again this year, which means it'll just be me and my mom. He goes every year to the Capitol, and comes back broken because he couldn't save another person.

The sun is up in the sky now, and I look around with a start to see that I'll be late.

I tuck the book into my secure jacket pocket and sprint to my house.

Some boys come and trip me, and I grasp the book to make sure it didn't slip out. They snicker and walk away.

I dust myself off and sigh, walking back home. I'm not hurt or anything, but I just wish I had the courage to stand up to them once and for all.

Mom is humming, blissfully unaware about the fact that I get bullied every day. She has enough on her plate, making sure Dad is okay, because he always has nightmares.

"Hi Mom, bye Mom," I say, running up to my room. I grab the first things I see, which is a plaid shirt and jeans, and jog downstairs.

"Mom, Dad, we've gotta go. We'll be late!" I say. Dad hurries down in a formal reaping outfit, while Mom looks pretty in a soft pink summer dress.

We all walk to the square, and Dad and Mom kiss me on the forehead and leave me to get my DNA sample check. Dad joins the mayor and the other victor, Birch Oakley.

The Dark Days are read, and I pay close attention to the words. The days before Panem always fascinate me, and I wish we weren't so kept in the dark about the past.

Flavio Soviens comes onto the stage, and smiles at the crowd. He takes out the lone white slip of paper out of the huge glass bowl and reads it out.

"Willow Feyr!" he exclaims dramatically.

My heart breaks, and some people snicker. I had a feeling that I might be chosen, but I hoped that the district didn't hate me enough to choose me. I feel like crying and I almost sink down to the ground. I look over to my father desperately, and tears stream down his face.

As I walk up, I look around the district. "What did I do?" I ask, desperate for an answer. "What did I ever do for you guys to hate me?"

No one answers, like they're ashamed of themselves. The entire district, for once, is silent.

My father refuses to look at me, and I know he's blaming himself. It's cruel that he'll have to mentor me and watch his only daughter die. I bite my lip, and look at the ground.

Leer Golder is reaped as well. He's a decent person, hardworking and determined. His mother died a long time ago, and his father is involved in cutting down the trees. I can't see why people would vote for him.

The mayor reads the Treaty of Treason, and Leer and I are forced to shake hands. His hand shake is firm, and he could probably feel my clammy hands from that shake.

Mom visits me because Dad is mentoring, therefore not allowed to visit the tributes. She wraps her arms around me and collapses on the couch, crying.

"Your Daddy feels awful baby, I know he thinks that it's all his fault," she chokes, stroking my hair. "I'm so sorry pumpkin, we didn't think- we didn't think that they'd-"

She gasps and sobs. I hug her tight. "it's not your fault, Mommy, and it's not Daddy's either. Thank you Mommy, I love you so much."

"Pumpkin, I love you too," she musters, "you'll always be my darling little girl."

The Peacekeepers come in and grab my mom. "Bye Pumpkin!" she screams, tears running down her face. "I love you so much, remember that!"

"I love you too!" I shout back. "Goodbye Mommy!"

And I mean it.

* * *

 _Leer Golder, 18_

 _District Seven Male Tribute_

* * *

"Get up idiots!" I yell, kicking the dunces I have to call my brothers. Not one of the three in their small, separate beds stir. I sigh, rolling my eyes at them.

"Get up!" I shout, pushing Oak off the bed. He grunts, but stays on the ground. I kick him. "Dude, wake up. Get breakfast, okay? It's Reaping Day, so we'll be on a tight schedule."

He nods, and staggers off downstairs, where Dad is setting the table up for breakfast. I crack my knuckles. One down, two more to go.

Soon enough, I'm lugging the two other pieces of shit, Banyan and Pine, down the stairs by the ear.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Banyan complains. I don't loosen my grip on his ear. In fact, I tighten it.

"This wouldn't have happened if you lug heads just woke up during the first twelve times I tried to," I smirk, dragging them more forcefully down the stairs.

"And why would we wake up to see your ugly face?" Pine mutters.

I roll my eyes and ignore his comment, forcing them towards their seats. "Now eat up, Dad and I didn't work hard this week just for you guys to not eat the food we used our precious money to pay for."

I don't have to tell them twice. They scrape down the food, which is bread and eggs. Dad looks at me gratefully and sips his coffee, a rare luxury in Seven that I used a good month's work of money to pay for.

Ever since my mom died, eight years ago, I tried to make sure my siblings didn't go hungry. Dad would work arm and leg just for us to have food on the table, and electricity running. I, on the other hand, helped raise my brothers. Oak and Banyan, who were six at the time, and little Pine, who was four.

We relied on each other a lot, and still do. Soon, I had to steal food because Dad's job was tight. It was bad, not right at all, but we needed the food, or else we'd all starve. Right from the moment I turned eighteen, I devoted myself to bringing in the income, working on cutting the harder trees for a bigger pay. With bigger pay comes more food for growing boys that need all the nutrients they can get.

I clean the table while the boys turn the television on, watching replays of President Starling's speech. I went upstairs and drew the bath.

"Oak! Get up here!" I heard footsteps come up. "Make sure you don't waste all the hot water."

I walk downstairs and sit on the couch. Interviews with President Starling and her daughter Emory about the games is playing, probably live.

Augustus Silvermoon is beaming. "President Starling! It's a pleasure to see you again!"

President Starling smiles, her blue eyes glinting with malice.

"it's a pleasure to be here, Augustus," she replies smoothly.

"Well, President Starling, your amazing idea, the Quarter Quell, is coming so soon! What gave you the idea of the ability to create something much more spectacular than any other year?"

President Starling smirks. "It was an idea I had right after my husband James, you may know him as the first President Starling of Panem's, death. You all know how before, twenty-five years ago, there was a rebellion." Augustus nods, entranced by her story. "James was very forgiving of the twelve districts of Panem, only asking for an annual payment from the district."

"Ah yes," Augustus sighs, hand over his heart. "One male and one female from the twelve districts to have to _glory_ of fighting for the districts. And the lone victor will celebrate the reason why Panem is so great! Your husband was a brilliant man."

President Starling nods, and small smile creeping up on her face. "Yes, he was. So I thought, when he died of course, that we should _celebrate_ the games and Julius' death. It was coincidental that it happened to be the twenty-fifth year. Giving the districts the right to choose, to honour two selected individuals. And to honour Julius in not excluding _anyone,_ I decided that anyone above the age of twelve was eligible."

"That was brilliant, Madame President," Augustus compliments. "Unfortunately, we're out of time. The president of Panem, everyone!"

I snort. Pine just went up to bathe, so I was next. I turn my attention to Emory Starling, who just arrived on television.

"Emory, the princess herself looking as lovely as ever," he gushes. "All of the men are lining up for you!"

"Thank you Augustus," she replies. "You look amazing too."

She beams at the crowd, and I roll my eyes. "Your mother recently dropped an exciting bomb on all of us, Emory, we're dying to know how you feel about this Quarter Quell."

"Augustus, we all know this Quell is very exciting. I myself, am happy my father is being honoured this way, I'm sure he'd be delighted to hear that."

"Your father is the genius behind the games after all."

"Yes, of course! But it breaks my heart that anyone can be reaped. A pregnant woman can be chosen, as could an old man who is expecting his first grandchild." She fiddles, biting her lip. The crowd gushes about how sweet Emory is.

"Aw Emory, you're breaking all of our hearts. Well, let's hope that no one will do that!"

"Yes, fingers crossed."

Banyan taps me on the shoulder, and I turn around. "It's your turn to get ready."

As I bathe, I think about the true harms of the Quarter Quell. Emory, also known as _Panem's Princess_ , was actually right for once. I couldn't imagine if my dad was reaped or any of my family members.

I quickly get dressed.

"We have to go now," Dad says. I nod, and all five of us head to the square.

Walter Evergreen stops us, staring coldly at me. "Heading to the square, Leer?" he sneers.

"Yep, just like everyone else," I shoot back.

"Well, I hope you won't be _disappointed_ this year," he smiles cruelly. "I'd hate for you or your things to be tampered with."

"Uh, thanks," I say.

We walk into the square and get checked.

What did Walter mean by that? He's very wealthy and owns acres and acres of land… but I never stole from him. I feel nauseated through the readings, and I feel like throwing up by the time the female's name is read.

Willow Feyr, the fourth victor Anthony Feyr's daughter is reaped, and even though she is very privileged, it makes me sad that her father will have to mentor his daughter. It's not Willow's fault that her father is wealthy, and I'm sure that she's just quiet, not snobby.

"Leer Golder!"

I freeze. The world around me stops, and it feels like buzzing around my ears. When I get a sense of where I am again, I clench my fists. Did Evergreen pay people to vote for me? What did I do to him? I reluctantly walk onto the stage, and shake Willow Feyr's sweaty hand.

Freaking Walter Evergreen waltzes in, looking victorious. "Well, I warned you," he smirks. "You shouldn't tamper with people's stuff."

"What did I do to you?" I demand. "The hell made you pay everyone to put me in the games?"

He comes closer, the smell of liquor rolling off him. "These games will teach you not to forage through _my land_ ," he sneers. "Of course, I doubt you'll make it far. You'll probably be a feast to the wolves. Your poor, poor brothers are going to starve to death with or you. Good riddance."

He walks out, but not before I yell, "Fuck you!"

He laughs, and I realize that was _not_ the best choice for that.

My family comes in, panic written all over their faces. "What are we going to do without you?" Pine asks.

"You literally do everything at home for us, and bring in an extra paycheck," Oak says.

"Guys, it'll be okay. We'll figure this out somehow."

"Somehow? First Mom, now you. Leer, we can't afford to lose you too." Banyan runs his hands through his hair, stressed out.

"Once you turn eighteen, both of you guys start working on the hardest trees. That brings in the most money for a paycheck." I drop my voice. "And look after Dad, guys, he'll be in a rough place after this. Make sure he'll take care of himself."

The three of them nod. "Alright guys, you may be pains in the ass but I love all of you guys. Remember that."

"We love you too Leer."

They walk out, and I stare at them sadly through the window, thinking it'll be the last time I see them.

* * *

 **Finally back from vacation! Updating *might* be up to speed again, maybe not, but I've already started Eight, so you'll get to meet Harper Regalia and Noah Weaver soon. This chapter may be a little wonky because it was completed SUPER late, but I was behind so it was worth it. Willow Feyr is the wonderful laurenyeeann's and Leer Golder is the awesome platypus27's. See you guys soon!**


	9. Eight- Rich or poor, we're all victims

_**District Eight**_

 _Rich or poor, we're all victims_

* * *

 _Harper Regalia, 20_

 _District Eight Female Tribute_

* * *

They always say wit is a person's greatest weapon.

No matter who you are, your social status, or your life at home, if you have wit, you can go anywhere.

Of course, wit isn't a gun or a knife or a sword, but if used correctly, it can turn the weapon, the actual weapon, around and save your life.

I believe that. I may be the mayor's brattish daughter, living the lap of luxury, but I practice and study people, trying to find ways to help them. If it's just looking through my father's files (he's never home anyway) or staring outside my bedroom window, watching the district go through its daily life, I watch and learn.

I watch starving little girls look at the bakery with their mouths watering, I watch little boys begging for their mothers to stay with them. The old watch the district with weary eyes. We live in an era of fear.

I watch for the correct times to give the children some food, or invite them over to make sure they won't be alone. Parents are worked to death, children live a life of fear and uncertainty. Maybe in another life, it would be different. Maybe in this other life, we won't have almost every district starving, while the Capitol have anything and everything at their fingertips.

Yes, it's ironic, speaking that I'm the mayor's daughter, but contrary to popular belief, we don't have everything. My house is bugged, it took me years and years to plot where each one was and take them out so I could invite and feed starving children. My father lives in daily fear that one screw up can take my mother or me away to the Capitol, and to have us returned broken and scared. I have to entertain the people of the Capitol, smiling with all of them, showing them my sets of knives, and taking them to the guest rooms when they get drunk.

My mother is often not at home. She's off with the wealthier people of the district, the people who don't starve. Image and class is everything to her, so I only invite the children when she's not around. If she saw me, she would kick the children out, and take everything off them.

Today, the district is empty. Everyone is inside, getting ready for Reaping Day. I'm already ready, wearing a simple purple dress, but it's far too early to get out to the square. I head to the television and watch recaps of the old games.

Mother's obnoxious laughter is coming from the dining room. I turn around to see her sipping a glass of merlot.

"Good morning Mother," I say, my voice even.

"Oh, hello Harper," she replies, not even looking up. She downs the glass of liquor and rings our butler, an old, kind man named Salvatore. "Salvatore, get me another glass of merlot."

Salvatore nods. "Of course Mrs. Regalia."

I mouth _I'm sorry_ to him, and he kindly smiles. Mother doesn't treat Salvatore correctly, she's cruel to anyone who works for us. Because of the way my mother treats them, I begged my father to pay them more generously. He agreed.

"Oh Harper dear, what are you _wearing_?" she looks me over, and I force a smile.

"My reaping dress Mother, remember when I went to the dressmakers to have it done?" She gives me a look of disdain, her face scrunching up.

"Why didn't you order a dress from the Capitol instead? They are made much better than…. _that_." Mother is dressed in a pressed maroon dress and has a pearl necklace on. Her black high heels click, brand new or else she wouldn't be wearing them in the house, and her hair, long and black, is tied into a fancy bun, her huge wedding ring sitting prettily on her finger. Her violet eyes, like mine, are lined with make-up.

I purse my lips. "Well, I wanted to support the local businesses, and since this _is_ the clothing district, I just decided to buy it here. I think Rose did an excellent job, personally."

She makes a face of disgust. "You're on first name terms with the people below you?"

Now, this is where the assumption that I'm a brat comes from. My mother has this strange and obscure idea that anyone who doesn't have as much wealth and fortune to their name as us are just peasants who aren't fit to lick the soles of our shoes. This is also the reason why my mother and I don't exactly see… _eye to eye_.

My father is great on the other hand. He truly cares about the well-being of the district, unlike my mother, and wants the conditions to be better. He was always wealthy, even before the Dark Days, and was made mayor because President Starling (the first one) decided that he liked him. My mother, of course was delighted. Some may even say she married him for money. Mother is truly intelligent and beautiful, but a total and complete snob.

"They're not below us Mother," I grit my teeth, glaring at her. "They are people too, and they work to make a living, so they can come back home to their families with food on the table."

She snorts. "That's rich coming from you Harper, considering the fact that you are the district princess and have never worked a day in your life. You think you make a difference? They only see you as the stupid brat that lives in her big house that her _father_ provided for her."

That stung, I have to admit that, and I bit my lip. Mother smiles victoriously, seeing the signs of weakness, and knows she's won. Salvatore comes back with the glass of merlot, and Mother takes it and heads upstairs, most likely to my father's office.

"Are you okay Harper?" Salvatore asks kindly. Since Dad is never around because he's working on better living conditions for the district, and you've all seen what my mother's like, he's mainly raised me.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you Salvatore," I say earnestly. He smiles at me, and I smile back.

"Well, I have to start preparing the rooms for the people of the Capitol. I'll see you soon," he hurries out, and I sigh, rewatching the last game, Roman Troy's, and study it.

The games are cruel and horrible, forcing people to watch it, but it teaches people how to survive and avoid traps. I study it for anyone who gets reaped, and I visit them (or at least try to) and give them tips. Unfortunately, only one's come home, and her name is Paige Waft, the victor of the twenty first games.

Eventually, I can't take looking at the blood much longer, and I head downstairs to my knives. When I was younger, maybe six, a few older kids, all from the poorer parts of the district, had beat me up pretty hard, and I had come home crying to my parents and Salvatore. Salvatore had cleaned up the wounds while Mother had snorted in disgust, telling me that those children are filthy and that I shouldn't even be _near_ that part of the district. Dad was quiet, and the next day, took me downstairs and showed me a nice, new set of shiny knives. He showed me how to throw them correctly, and I was in awe. Every night, my dad was teaching me how to throw knives, and I valued each and every moment of those lessons, as it was the rare times that Dad devoted his time to me. He soon had to continue working even more, as the district stumbled into a worse fate, and I practiced by myself, making sure I could hit anything and everything.

I still practice them now. The moving dummies startup, and I throw the knives into their chests.

"Harper?" Dad says. I turn around to look at him, and then I throw the knife at the last dummy behind me. He whistles. "You got better sweetie."

"Thanks Dad," I smile. "I try."

"It's time for to go to the Reapings now, do you want to finish getting ready?" I look down at myself, noting that my hair was a mess. I nod, and hurry upstairs, my dad laughing.

I brush my caramel coloured locks and tie it into a loose ponytail, and grab a pair of white flats. I rush to the kitchen, making sure my mother doesn't see me, and grab pieces of bread and sweets and stuff them into a bag.

We head to the square, my mother and father trailing far ahead, and I hear my mother make a sound of disgust. Children looking hungry stare at my mother with the piece of avocado toast in her hand. She glares at them, and they shrink away.

I head up to them, and they look at me fearfully. "You must be hungry," I say softly. "Would you like some food?"

They nod desperately, and I give them the bag of food I snatched from the kitchen. They look at me gratefully, and I smile at them. "Thank you," one of the children say.

"It's no problem," I reply, giving them a beaming smile.

One of the perks of being the mayor's daughter is that I can't be arrested giving people food, unlike the others.

"Wait up!" Skye Roux, my best and only friend, calls. I stop and turn around. Her auburn hair is in a bun and her sky blue eyes are shiny. She's a wealthier girl in the district, therefore my mother has nothing rude to say about her, but down to earth and a great shoulder to cry on.

"Hey," I say. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, did your mother make the comment about your dress?"

I snort. "Yeah, she called people trash again. I wish she wasn't so cruel."

"Your mother is a bitch, Harper. You don't have to worry about it."

"Yeah," I sigh. "I guess so."

We stand in silence as my father reads about the Dark Days. Relivia Crayole comes up and reads the name. "Harper Regalia!"

I'm hurt. Not to lie, this makes me really sad. I didn't expect to be reaped, and I feel like breaking down and sinking to the ground, but I manage to keep it together. Dad looks like the entire world exploded, and Mother actually looks sad. Skye hugs me, crying into my shoulder, and I bravely walk up, managing a weak smile to the camera and the district.

The district is silent, but they chose to put people in. They got the right to choose to they wanted to go in, and they chose me. Maybe it's something wrong that I did, or it's not me at all. Mother was right; maybe I'm just the stupid mayor's brat.

Noah Weaver looks seethingly at the crowd as he walks up. He has a hard life, and was an orphan since he was little. Dad had mentioned wanting to adopt him a long time ago, but Mother refused to, saying that she didn't want anything dirty in her house. He may rob, but he needs it to survive. I tried to help him once, but needless to say, it went okay.

Dad reads the Treaty of Treason shakily, his voice cracking from the immense sorrow in his voice. The district is solemn, and I can feel the pity they have for my father.

As we walk to the Justice Building, the little kids I helped look at me sadly, and they mouth that I didn't deserve to go in. My lip quivers, hoping someone will try to help the district when I'm gone.

All the dreams of going to the Capitol to make a difference and help people in this world are flushed down the drain. If I do come back, I'll just be seen as a monster.

Dad and Mother visit, Dad in tears, as well as… _Mother_?

Dad and Mother hug me. "I'm sorry," Mother sniffles, her voice raw and scratchy, unlike anything I've seen before. "It's my fault darling, it's my fault that you've been reaped. If I haven't treated people like dirt-"

She sobs, unable to finish that sentence. I look at her gently, kissing her on the forehead. "It's okay," I say. "If you want to do anything as a change, help the people that need help. We have the means and resources to do so."

She nods, and kisses my temple. "Of course, Harper. I love you so much, regardless of what I said to you."

"I know," I reply. "I love you too."

Dad hugs me tighter. "You need to fight, Harp," he says sharply. "I've seen you with a knife, I know you study the games to help others, you can win. You can survive. I know that if you try, you will."

I nod. "Okay Dad. I love you."

"I love you too princess," he says softly. "I'm so sorry."

"It's none of your faults," I say. "Only mine."

They leave tearfully, and Skye comes in with tears in her eyes.

"Hey S," I say weakly.

"Hey H," she says. "Promise me you'll try to win and gain sponsors?"

I nod. "Of course."

"And try to make allies, so you don't have to kill," she suggests. "You're smart and good with knives, I think you'll do well."

"Thank you," I whisper, hugging her. She hugs me back, and I feel something clasp around my wrist.

"Remember that bracelet you gave me a long time ago?" she asks. I nod. "Well, I want that to be your token."

I hug her again. "Of course Skye."

I look out at the district one last time as Skye leaves.

Wit will be my weapon of choice this time, along with knives. And if I win, I'll make sure the people of the district get the supplies to have food on the tables for a long time.

* * *

 _Noah Weaver, 21_

 _District Eight Male Tribute_

* * *

Being on the wrong side of the district makes people assume you're messed up.

Of course, the people saying that are right.

Broken homes, broken lives, broken families, Eight is shitty. Plain shitty.

We are enslaved to work for them, the divide between the rich and the poor is pretty big, if you ask me. Clothes are made and made and made, but not for us. No, it's for the fucktards they call the Capitol.

But even my life is more fucked up than anyone else's.

Dad? Dead in a rebellion he didn't even join.

Mom? Dead from bringing my sorry ass into this world.

Home? A small, abandoned shack.

I have not a nickel to my name, no food on the table for me, just one hell of a shitty life.

So what does someone with a fucked up life do to survive? We steal, because that's the only way to live when you don't have a cushy life with everything you want served to you on a silver plate. That's right, I'm looking at the mayor and his tramp wife and bitch daughter.

The Capitol and the rich are all the same, full of bullshit and everything they could possibly want. No one can deny it, they all choose not to help the people that actually need the money, food, and a home.

It's only the rich and privileged faults. They can't decide that in their fucked up minds to actually use their money for something other than useless jewels and designer things that the poor slave off to make. My father died for a rebellion that they didn't even participate in, just to have a still shitty life. That's just fucked up, if you ask me.

All my clothes have holes in them, all of them aren't in an "acceptable" condition for the Capitol. No one would give a shit about that normally if they didn't execute the people that didn't she up to their stupid standards.

So I go to a factory, one that's known for making shirts, and creep alongside the wall. No Peacekeepers or people are out, probably because they're getting ready for the reapings. I grin to myself, and scale alongside the wall, staying out of plain sight from the cameras. The Capitol will be most displeased once they notice that one of their precious shirts are missing. Boo hoo.

The factory, as always, is heavily loaded with security, the series of locks complicated and high tech. I snort, even those could stop me.

I breeze through them, the first a fingerprint lock, the second a key card, the third a number combination, and just dozens and dozens of locks. I smirk, and sneak inside, having disabled the security cameras.

There are many shirts laid out in neat piles, all simple and nice enough for a reaping. I smile to myself, and look through the piles. One is a crazy pink, yellow swirled shirt, another purple, another blue, and finally, a black one. I grab the top one and put it on, groaning when it was too small, stretching over my muscles tightly.

I take the one from the bottom, and it fit perfectly. I take it off and bunch it in my hands. A smirk forms onto my face and I head to the control room, turning on the cameras and sneak home, confident that no one saw me. I've been stealing for years, just to live when no one else tried to help, and I've mastered the art of thievery.

I take out a simple piece of bread and chew on it. The piece is bland and plain, but oh well, that's all I could steal at the time being. Maybe I'll get some more after, while people are bustling about in town.

I take a short shower, the water schoring cold and I don't stay in long. Goosebumps form on my arms and lands, and my hair no my arms stand up. I grit my teeth and suppress a shiver, stepping out and taking a (stolen) towel and wrapping it around myself. I nearly slip on the grimy floor, and curse, lightly padding across the floor.

I get dressed and brush my brown hair into a somewhat neat hairstyle. I glare in the mirror, and huff, getting out.

The fucking mayor's daughter is handing something out to the children, and I roll my eyes. She smiles at them, and she would be gorgeous if she wasn't such a brat. I voted her into the games, because she's too useless.

I wait in the square, and the prick of a mayor is standing on the stage. I roll my eyes and tune out when he reads about the Dark Days.

Fucking Harper Regalia, the gorgeous mayor's daughter herself, is reaped, and I blanche. The girl, who may be a brat, has never been doing anything in her life, and she won't survive a day in the arena.

But then, I'm reaped. The son of a bitch escort, whatever her name is, is smiling at the crowd. I glare at them, though, because of _them_ I have to go into the games. Hell, why me out of all people? I just want to get by in my shitty ass life, isn't that enough?

I stalk up, my eyes burning daggers at the districts, because I don't want the Peacekeepers filthy hands to touch me. I am forced to shake hands with the mayor's brat, who bites her lip, her violet eyes clouded over, maybe with tears?

No one visits me, as expected, and I just flip the district off.

Why the hell did they choose me?

* * *

 **Woohoo and it's done! Love this batch of tributes, they're just so different! The lovely i'mnotrellyademigod owns Miss Harper Regalia and the amazing MiniMustache owns Noah Weaver. See you guys next time!**


	10. Nine- I wonder what it's like far away

_**District Nine**_

 _I wonder what it'll be like far away_

* * *

 _Kayla Nevius, 18_

 _District Nine Female Tribute_

* * *

The Hunger Games have always fascinated me.

Ah, the lights, the action, the people! Just pure entertaining. The costumes, the interviews, and just everything about the games pulled me in.

I was born in a great year. The seventh Hunger Games, where the only victor of District Nine, Rosemary Thyme, had won her games. She was the creme of the crop, just a perfect balance of intelligence and wit, finally giving the much needed glory to Nine.

We've had many tributes get close to winning as well.

Minthe Deresta, from the twelfth game, died with a blow to the head, inflicted by Sable Nox from Ten, the soon to be victor.

Oregano Fallington, in the eighteenth Hunger Games, was second to Aurora Rosner from Two, the victor herself. He, unfortunately, ate the nightlock Ms. Rosner offered him, having been starving for days, and died.

Well, not many, but I hope this year's our year.

I watch the Capitol shows, and giggle when they mention Roman Troy, the hottest, and newest victor. He was such a spectacle, outshining everyone in the reapings, stunning everyone in the crowd with the chariot rides, blowing everyone away with his outstanding score of Ten, pleasing the world with the interviews, and just being amazing in the games. He resides in the Capitol right now, doing many television shows and broadcasts. I suppose he'll be in Two now, getting ready for the reapings.

Mom would've loved him as well. I miss her everyday, have been for the last eleven years. Her death, created by hunger, forced me and my brother Kiaiko, to work to feed our family. We worked at the gardens, fertilizing the herbs, watering the herbs, picking the herbs, from the crack of dawn to the blink of dusk.

Tesserae saved our lives. One more slip in the reaping bowl for an entire bag of grains! I have around one hundred twenty slips in the bowl, but miraculously, I've never been reaped. This year is a blessing. It's my last, and there's no reaping!

I stopped getting tesserae after I turned fourteen. I got a goat named Lucky, who provided us with enough resources to sell. Lucky's milk, cheese, and cream are the most popular in the district, for the affordable price and delicious taste. We had enough to scrape by, and no one had to get tesserae.

I guess I really started to adore the games because I had nothing else to do. Now that we don't work as often, I take care of the younger twins, Barley and Sage. They goof off, leaving me to run around the place looking for them. The thrill of watching something for older kids, something the little ones can't see, drew me in.

I researched every game. Went to the library in my free time, checking out volumes and volumes of information on the victors, the games, everything. The bloodshed was too much for me to watch, but the interviews and reapings were always entertaining.

I've memorized each victor of the Hunger Games, starting from the beginning, and how old they were when they were in them. I take out my victor sheet, well doodled on, and read out every single name.

 _1st Hunger Games- Aeneas Battlesmen, 2 (18)_

 _2nd Hunger Games- Teal Waves, 4 (18)_

 _3rd Hunger Games- Gleam Hale, 1 (17)_

 _4th Hunger Games- Anthony Feyr, 7 (18)_

 _5th Hunger Games- Slatia Burnet, 12 (14)_

 _6th Hunger Games- Freya Spangler, 2 (18)_

 _7th Hunger Games- Rosemary Thyme, 9 (15)_

 _8th Hunger Games- Salton Seabar, 4 (16)_

 _9th Hunger Games- Techna Huxley, 3 (13)_

 _10th Hunger Games- Valour Radiance, 1 (15)_

 _11th Hunger Games- Mags Flannagan, 4 (16)_

 _12th Hunger Games- Sable Nox, 10 (14)_

 _13th Hunger Games- Woof Dozier, 8 (15)_

 _14th Hunger Games- Tilver Calix, 1 (17)_

 _15th Hunger Games- Deena Foster, 5 (18)_

 _16th Hunger Games- Birch Oakley, 7 (12)_

 _17th Hunger Games- Shimmer Midas, 1 (18)_

 _18th Hunger Games- Aurora Rosner, 2 (18)_

 _19th Hunger Games- Magnet Dem, 5 (15)_

 _20th Hunger Games- Seeder Kaiser, 11 (16)_

 _21st Hunger Games- Paige Waft, 8 (14)_

 _22nd Hunger Games- Kirk Casey, 6 (17)_

 _23rd Hunger Games- Phoebe Caesar, 2 (18)_

 _24th Hunger Games- Roman Troy, 2 (18)_

I reread it, trying to figure out who would be mentoring this year. The Career districts typically have two mentors, usually the newest ones, but the outlying districts only give one, switching off every other year. I can put my money on the fact that Tilver Calix and Shimmer Midas will be mentoring for One. I'm almost certain that Phoebe Caesar and Roman Troy are mentoring for Two. Rosemary Thyme by default will mentor for Nine. She's thirty-four this year, with a little daughter and son, and I absolutely adore her. She's amazing to every degree, her willingness to help the district puts stars in my eyes.

I roll out of bed, groaning as I see that my shoulder length blonde hair is all tangled up and messy. I brush the tangles out slowly, wincing as I tug too hard, and sigh as I finally finish. I get into a lilac dress, and wrap a white ribbon in my hair.

I jog to the main room.

Dad is already ready, tying the twins' shoes, and Kiaiko is fixing his collar, looking grim. "You're finally here," he says. "We need to go now, you know how they're like when people are late."

District Nine is very strict on rules, especially when it comes to Capitol rules from the president herself. Being a minute late for anything? No paycheck for a week. But being late to a reaping? You can find yourself in the stocks for the next two days, if you're lucky.

The mayor, a gruff looking lady who's looks like she's seen much better days, comes up, reading about the Dark Days. Beside her, sitting down uncomfortably, is Rosemary Thyme. She bites her lips and looks to the crowd, most likely finding her family.

"And now, for the ladies," Syrio Idum says. "Kayla Nevius!"

I look around the district, my eyebrows furrowing. They think I could win? That's cool. I'd finally be able to have the movie star treatment. There will be pretty dresses, lights shining all over you. It will be fun in the Capitol for sure.

I didn't notice when Syrio called the name of the male tribute, but Sickle Rhoades is reaped. He is shocked, but his eyebrows knit and he glares over the crowd. He glares at me when we shake hands, and wipe his hands on his pants after we're done.

My friend Lily visits me first. "I'm going to miss you Kay," she says softly, hugging you.

I smile at her. "It's okay, I'll be in the Capitol. It's really pretty there, all the lights and the technology, from what people have said in the interviews."

"You'll really like it there," she chokes, tears springing into her eyes as she squeezes my hand. "I know you will."

"Bye Lil," I smile once more.

"Bye Kay."

Dad, Kiaiko, Sage, and Barley come in.

"I taught you how to defend yourself," Kiaiko says, looking straight into my eyes.

I nod, "I know, I'll try to apply them."

"I'll miss you little sis," he whispers, kissing me on the forehead. "I love you a lot, you know. No matter how big you'll get, I always will feel like I have to protect you."

"You don't need to anymore," I remind him. "I'm eighteen now."

"I know…" he sighs. "I just feel like I need to."

"Well, thank you for that." I look him in the eyes, flashing him a sad smile. "I love you big bro."

"Kay, I love you sweetie," my dad softly cries. "Your mum would've loved to see how brave and independent you've become. You'll be okay sweetie, I know you'll be."

I nod softly, hugging him, and he kisses my temple. "Love you too Dad."

I walk over to Sage and Barley, who look confused. "You guys know how to milk Lucky, right?"

They nod. "And make cheese and cream. Well, I'm going to be gone for a while guys, and you'll need to help Daddy and Kiaiko out. Okay?"

They nod again, and I kiss them both.

"Goodbye guys."

I wonder how beautiful the Capitol will be like when we get there. I know it will be gorgeous.

* * *

 _Sickle Rhoades, 19_

 _District Nine Male Tribute_

* * *

"Where's the sugar?" I ask my dad. He looks around, frowning slightly, before saying ' _aha!'_ and grabbing it. I take it from him, creaming the butter and sugar. I add the eggs and flour next and mix them until they're smooth. I smile in satisfaction.

"Son, I'm going to preheat the oven now," my dad informs me.

"Okay," I say, prepping the pan with parchment paper. I pour the sweet smelling batter into the pan, and sniff it once more. My mother will love the surprise of pound cake for breakfast. The sweets usually help her migraines and make it easier for her to get up from bed.

The oven beeps, and I slide the pan into it, and close it. I smile and start to clean up. The flour and sugar are put back into the pantry, and the butter and eggs return to the fridge.

"Your mother would love it," my dad says, patting my back.

Even though my parents are divorced, they still care deeply about each other. Dad is quite wealthy, which is why I have access to my own oven and refrigerator, and Mom is a healer, making decent money as well. My father owns a farm, which I work on, and the money that comes in easily classifies as rich. Due to this, many people don't like me.

"Yeah, I hope so," I reply.

I start to wash the blueberries, Mom's favourite, and heat the other berries on the pan to make a berry sauce. Mom stays with my dad on the reaping days so we could have breakfast as a family. I have a place of my own, but I visit my parents often.

The oven beeps, and I grab the oven mitts and take the pan out. I run a toothpick through it, satisfied that it is ready, and let it cool on the rack. I set the table, putting the milk in the glasses and the fruit on the table, and head to my mother's room.

In sleep, the stress of living in a poor district can't reach her. Her worry lines seem to have faded, her beautiful features cool and calm. She sighs, and I shake her softly, not wanting to wake her abruptly. I really hope this is a good day for her, she only deserves the best.

"Mm," she sighs, blearily opening her tender blue eyes. I can see she's not in pain, a very good sign. "Good morning dear."

"Good morning Mom," I say, kissing her cheek. I help her get up, and her long, dark hair, streaked with grey due to stress, brushing my arms softly. "I made pound cake with Dad for you today."

She smiles brilliantly, filling up the room with happiness. I get up to walk her to the door, but she stops me. "I can do it myself dear, but thank you."

I beam as she slowly, but steadily, heads to the door. I help her down the stairs though, she still can't fully get down them herself, but my father greets her.

"Good morning Ceres," Dad says, getting over here to help her sit down.

"Good morning Miller," she replies airily. "The pound cake looks delicious."

He chuckles, cutting a piece of cake and putting it on her plate. "Sickle insisted… to celebrate the fact that he is no longer eligible for the reapings."

"Thank you dear," she kisses my cheek. "You always look out for your old mom."

"And I'll never stop," I say.

These are one of the rare moments when my mother smiles. She wasn't always like this, weak, frail, and sad, but the stress of living in Panem, with the looming threat of the games, broke her in a way, as you can see now. Growing up, she tried to be better for me, but now, all the worry, stress, and pent up emotion made her bedridden, weak, and gave her painful migraines. We try to give her better things instead of Morphling, a Capitol medicine made from boiled nightlock leaves, which would become addicting, such as sweets and natural medicines from the apothecary shop.

Dad, even though they're divorced, goes over to my mom's house every day to make sure she's fine. Him being wealthy gives him the opportunity to do that, unlike others in the district. I work on the fields, even though I will inherit my father's wealth, so I don't always have time to check up on her. Before work and right after work, I see her every single day, just to make sure she's fine.

"You should get ready for the reapings," my father suggests as I clean up the dishes. My mother sips a glass of warm milk, her eyes shining, and I nudge her the bottle of honey. She takes it gratefully, smiling brightly, and puts a spoonful in, stirring it. She sips it and sighs. Honey is another natural remedy that makes her feel better.

I nod, having been satisfied with Mom's wellbeing, and quickly shower. My breath smells like sugar and sweets, and I grimace, brushing my teeth. I comb my wheat blond hair to the side, looking wispy but fine.

I grab a pair of jeans and a clean tee not used for work, and look in the mirror, wondering if Dmitria Ascolani would think I look good. I've been meaning to ask her if she wants to go to the bakery with me, but I never had time. Her grey eyes always sparkle in the sunlight, and her long light brown hair glints in it. She's absolutely mesmerizing.

The square is silent, not at all happy or bright, as it is a reaping day, where two people will be sent to the Capitol to die. The mayor solemnly reads the piece about the Dark Days, and calls up the escort, whose name is something like Serious, who isn't close to being serious at all.

Kenneth, a friend of mine from the field, snickers at Not-So-Serious escort's ridiculous accent and enthusiasm. He will manage to turn any day around, whether it would be from an awfully crappy day or a gloomy day, he'll make everyone smile. His humour and laughter is contagious. His optimism can turn any mood around.

Kayla Nevius brightly accepts her place as the female chosen tribute for Nine, and I slightly gag. She's pretty stupid for loving the games, as they only end in death. No one's won the games for sixteen years, and I doubt that she'll be the next victor. I think her enthusiasm for the games, the obvious reason of why she was chosen, will get her killed.

"Sickle Rhoades!"

My inner monologue of Kayla Nevius is stopped by the shock coursing through my veins.I know the people of Nine, most who live a crappy life, are jealous of me for my money and how well off I am, but I didn't think they were that petty in order to _choose me to die_. The district- the people are just jealous freaks, envious of what they can never have.

As I slowly walk up, I sweep a glare over the crowd. They are subjecting me to die. But as I see the twelve years olds, so young and innocent, clutch each other fearfully, and I look at the parents, who look grateful that their young children aren't reaped for another year, I realize that if I was in their situation, if I was in the district's place, where there was an upstart spoiled rich kid that talked about how wealthy he was, I would have voted for me too. My anger lessens, and I soft a little, turning my gaze away from the crowd sadly.

Kayla Nevius brightly shakes my hand, her smile huge and content, and I find myself wiping my hand on my jeans after the slight contact. Unlike Kenneth, whose optimism is well-meaning and enjoyable to have, her peppiness just seems to dampen my mood even more.

Mom, with the help of Dad, comes in sobbing. She reaches me and clutches me tight, sobbing into my shoulders. A bit of tears well up in my eyes; what will happen to Mom when I'm gone?

"Si- dear- baby-" she's unable to form words, and just sobs senselessly.

Dad claps me on the back solemnly, his eyes welled up in tears. "The universe works in weird ways son. Things we can't even begin to understand," he shakily tells me. "Everything that happens- every little twist and turn, opens up new possibilities and beginnings and endings."

I nod numbly.

"I'll make sure your mum's okay, Sickle. I swear I will." He clasps a metal clip, one that we use to roll up wheat on the field, and I can see that my mother's loopy handwriting and my father's rough penmanship is on it. I tuck it into my pocket. A piece from home, my parents are always going to be with me.

"Thank you," I say earnestly. "That's all I can ever ask."

Kenneth comes in, his usually calm hands jittery and fidgety. "Hey," he says nervously. "At least there'll be cute chicks in the Capitol, right?"

His voice squeaks, and he rubs his neck. Dmitria Ascolani comes to my mind, and Kenneth can sense my regret. "But hey dude, if you come back, Dmitria will totally dig you. The first victor in sixteen years… that'll be amazing for you!" he tries again. Usually, Kenneth's jokes help me through, but today, it doesn't. It's not his fault, none of it is.

I clasp his shoulder. "Thanks for being an awesome guy dude, keep it up."

"Thanks," he says.

He leaves, and I look out the window.

Dmitria is talking to someone, her long brown hair pulled into a braid, rather worriedly. I sigh.

 _In another life_.

* * *

 **Okay... so this took wayyy longer than I thought. But it's out now! The victors list is in this universe, and you'll probably notice some familiar names :) Kayla Nevius is the amazing Honeyburst's and Sickle Rhoades is the exceptional cjborange's, who I also leach off of for the story 23 Cannons: The Victor's Compendium. I was going to use the verse for this story, but I forgot to ask and had too many things already happening. Anyway, I'm rambling. See you guys later!**


	11. Ten- My faults are not my own

_**District Ten**_

 _My faults are not my own_

* * *

 _Leona Allerton, 13_

 _District Ten Female Tribute_

* * *

"Have you ever wondered what it's like outside Ten?" Ambrosia, my friend, asks. Gizelle bites her lip, not knowing what to say, and Hawk frowns, obviously stumped.

"I haven't really," I shrug, looking off into the distance. The sandy rock I sit on provides a great view of the district, the trees in the far distance seem to sway. District Ten is a dryer place, which is convenient as we are the cattle district. "I guess the outside districts would be pretty."

"I think District Four would be gorgeous," Ambrosia tells me. "It would have white sand and blue waves, the prettiest district no doubt."

"You're absolutely right!" Gizelle says. She's eager to please Ambrosia, who's the leader of our tiny friend group. She may be the eldest, but she'll follow Ambrosia like a lost puppy. I don't mind though, Ambrosia is a good person and strong minded.

I imagine the blue waves rolling off of the shore, and myself and my dad playing in the waves. A smile rises to my face. Life would be fun in Four.

"Well, I think we should play now," Ambrosia says suddenly. We start to play a game of hide and seek, with Hawk as the seeker, and I run to my go to spot: a hole in a hollow tree. I go here to hide, and no one's ever known about it. It's my secret spot, my sanctuary away from everything.

As I hide, I wonder what would it be like in other parts of Panem?

I can imagine the beautiful beaches of Four, how one day it would be amazing to step into the waters. I see the diamonds of One, sparkling in the sunlight. It seems to good to be true, a world beyond Ten. A better one.

I hear my friends calling me, and I slip out of my tree. I see a huge rock in the distance, and scramble behind it.

My thoughts keep coming back to me. The world spins. Would my mother be in this 'to good to be true' reality? Would she be proud of me? Would she be loving and caring? I guess I'd never know.

"Leona! We found you!" I turn to see Ambrosia, with a smug look on her face, with Hawk and Giselle grinning broadly.

I force a smile. "Yeah, let's head back now and get ready for the reapings."

Hawk and Gizelle race down the hill, but Ambrosia yells at them to wait.

"Leona, are you nervous for the reapings? Don't worry, I'm sure your daddy paid the district to not reap you." I was hurt, how could Ambrosia say such mean things? My eyes stung, and I looked down. I could see Ambrosia running down the hill with Hawk and Gizelle, not one bit concerned. I trudge down the hill, tears threatening to come. Maybe Ambrosia was right.

"Leona! Hurry up!" Ambrosia's voice shrieks. I break into a sprint and head to my house.

My footsteps echo across my grand, empty house as I head to my bathroom. Most of the district is poor, but my father is one of the few on the richer side. Ambrosia is wealthy as well, her parents jewelry makers for the district. I met her when my dad was buying me my heart shaped locket from her parents. We've stuck together ever since, and I introduced her to Hawk and Gizelle. They all clicked, and we've all been close ever since.

I step into the shower, the hot rushing water hitting my skin. I hear the alarm ring from downstairs, signaling my father is home. My thoughts drift to what Ambrosia said down at the hill, about my father paying the district. I really don't think he would do that. He is a good man.

"Leona? I'm home." My father's footsteps thump up the stairs to his bedroom, probably getting ready for the reapings.

My father is a barn manager, a more well off job for the district. He loves me more than anything, and I know he wouldn't do such a bad thing.

I shut off the water and wrap a towel around me, heading to my room. I put on a simple pink work dress, then head downstairs.

My father is sitting at the table reading a magazine. I hear the television on in the living room playing old recaps of the games.

"Oh hello, Leona." He looks up from his magazine and smiles at me. "Ready to go?"

I nod and grab a pair of flats from the shoe rack. My father and I walk to the Square, getting our blood samples and head into our age groups.

"Good luck, Leona. I love you," he says as he kisses my head. I kiss him on the cheek and walk to the thirteen year olds.

I look around the district. Lots of men are glaring hatefully in my father's direction, scowling and muttering to each other. I gulp. I recognize some of these men, workers for my father's barn. I wonder why they would be upset.

I hardly even notice when Tatyana Idum reads about the Dark Days and pulls the lone white slip of paper out of the jar.

"Leona Allerton!"

Hearing my name snaps me out of my thoughts. What? Why me? I'm only thirteen, too young for any of this. I stare ahead blankly, tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't do anything to deserve this, I've never done anything for people to hate me. I stare at the ground, my tears soaking the dry earth, unmoving.

Soon, strong arms covered in the white fabric that is the peacekeeper's lift me up. I struggle, my tan arms whacking it and whacking it, but it's no use. I'm no match for a peacekeeper. I stare blankly at the district, tears just streaming down my face.

Tatyana looks at me owlishly, probably unsure of what to make of me. Her creepy, cat like eyes look at me in a weird, maybe concerned way before awkwardly addressing the district.

"Erm," she says, looking around nervously before biting her full blood red lips. "And, um, now for the boys. Dennis Herd!"

Dennis Herd comes from the eighteen year old section. He's average height for his age, a little bit skinny, with light brown hair that glints in the sunlight and icy brown eyes. He looks around the square accusingly, but then lowers his gaze a little, glaring at the ground.

He looks at me with a strange look, maybe a type of pity, as he shakes my hand. His hands are warm, a little bit clammy, but as are mine. I bite my lip, keeping my attention to the floor as we set off to the Justice Building.

My father comes in, his dark brown hair looking like he's run his hands through it many times. His honey brown skin looks a little pale, sweaty even, as he goes up to me. He hugs me, but his eyes are far away. I cry into his shoulder, trying to remain calm. I fail.

He awkwardly pats me on the back, Dad was never one for showing his emotions.

When the Peacekeepers come to pull him away, I can't bear it. When he's gone, this nightmare becomes a reality. They rip us apart from our embrace, uncaring about the fact that I am a _thirteen_ year old girl, that is being sent off to her inevitable death.

"Dad!" I scream, keeping a hold on his arm. "Dad, don't go! Please stay! Please-"

I sob on the ground, collapsing. Dad gives me a sad look, tears welling up in his warm brown eyes, and then he leaves, letting me wallow in my sorrow.

Ambrosia, Gizelle, and Hawk all visit me. Ambrosia embraces me tightly, her watery hazel eyes apologetic. "I'm so so sorry about what I said earlier," she apologizes. "But I know you'll do well! You're smart, and sweet, the people will love you! I- You'll do awesome Lee, I know you will."

"Yeah!" Gizelle chimes in. "You're awesome!"

She looks at me weirdly, truly in shock that I, Bram Allerton's little girl, out of all people, were chosen to die in the Quarter Quell. She hugs me, and for once, I feel like I truly, truly belong.

Hawk looks at me sadly, his wide brown eyes looking at me. "You're an awesome friend Lee, my first ever friend. Thanks for that, I know you'll be awesome in the games. A star, just like you've always been."

Hawk, the youngest of our group at twelve years old, my first friend, hugs me, tears soaking into my plain pink work dress.

Eventually, the Peacekeepers come, and I am again alone, with only my thoughts as company.

As I stare blankly at the ornate wall, I wonder why I, the little thirteen year old girl, was the district's chosen tribute set to die in the games.

But, I guess I'll never know.

* * *

 _Dennis Herd, 18_

 _District Ten Male Tribute_

* * *

I cross my arms and stare at the wall emptily.

Alone as always, especially on a reaping day. Loneliness suits me I guess, I don't really know as I don't talk to anyone except for my dad, who isn't around often because we're dirt poor.

Sometimes I wish my mom was around, she had always managed to make everyone in the room feel better. But, she's gone, and took all of my love with her.

This is so unfair, why does the district get to choose about who gets to go into the shitty ass games? People get dolled up, first on the chariot rides where they parade the Capitol like a bunch of idiots, then they train for three days, and get dolled up again for the interviews.

A never-ending cycle, but you get to spend two weeks in the Capitol, which is a bonus if you don't include the freakishly modified people and weird fashion senses.

It's the first week of June, a bright, summer's day, perfect for sending someone off to their deaths. It's just freaking great, everyone gets to pick their choice to die! The games happen on the third week of June, always one of the hottest, and forces the citizens of the so called 'great' nation of Panem to sit outside for mandatory viewings of the bloodlust and horror.

The games are a load of bull. There, I've said it, and I'd say it again. It's bullshit. I kick the door. It's boring right now, work is on hold for the day because of the reapings, and the Capitol doesn't pay us for the one day they refuse to let us work. Of course, for the dirt poor, it's less money for a day of starving. The Capitol doesn't play fair games.

I glare at the wall again, because I can hear my father moving downstairs. I don't move to join him; the man never has time for me, even after the hard time of my mother's death, why should I join him now?

The old clock on my bedside table barely chimes. I groan, and get off of my bed, getting to the cold shower. I grit my teeth. Eighteen years of showering in icy cold water, I should be used to it. But still, I'm not. I can never get used to how could the water can be, but I can go to bed hungry for days. That's how we live in Ten, that's how we survive. I wash my hair, ducking it into the scorching cold water and putting the tiniest bit of soap in it.

A dirty white button down and black shorts are what I manage to find that are suitable for the games. I reluctantly head to the main room, we aren't wealthy enough to afford a two story house, just a small little house with our barely there two paychecks.

You start working in Ten when you turn ten. A bit ironic, if you ask me, but it helped my family a lot. I can't look at the photographs of my mother smiling, it's just too hard. I snarl at my father when he gives me a tentative smile, one that's forced. We don't get along, his bullshit about being a good person is stifling, boring. I only look out for myself. Everything I do is for me.

We don't talk anytime on the way to the square. I kick the stones, scowl at the kids who dare look at me, and bare my teeth at the adults who even spare me a glance.

I zone out about the Dark Days. Nothing matters to me, I just need to skip it to tomorrow, so I can work. I don't even like to work, I just need it so I can survive. Surviving is the only thing I really need to do.

A weak, whiny girl named Leona Allerton is reaped, and I laugh. She's rich, and her father's the reason why I get paid low. Not only the Capitol, but Leona Allerton's prick of a father. She won't survive a day. She's neither smart nor fast, certainly just a bloodbath.

But when the weird lady from the Capitol, the irritating escort named Tatyana Idum with her bright red hair and feline eyes, calls the male's name, I freeze. Anger consumes me. What the hell? My eyes sweep over everyone in the district accusingly. It's their fault I'm reaped. My only sin is that I survive. I'm a survivor.

Leona Allerton looks pitiful on stage, and I scoff. She doesn't get it. She's hasn't worked a day in her life, nothing has ever touched a pretty hair on her head. I want to slap each and every one of the people in the district, I only want to survive.

Now I see it. I'm a piece of shit. A jerk to the district, a total and complete asshole with a stick up his dirty ass. I deserve to go into the games, now I realize it. I'm undeserving of living, because all I do is treat others like they're nothing to me.

I reluctantly go up to the stage, my head spinning with all the thoughts and accusations in my head.

My father comes in as my sole visitor. "Dennis," he addresses. His eyes are distant, cold and unfeeling, and I roll my eyes. "I wish you good luck in the games."

I suppress a scowl at the man who barely raised me. "And I hope you'll learn something from these games. We all had a say in who was going in, after all."

I full on snarl at the man who calls himself my father as he leaves.

Did my own father vote for me to die?

* * *

 **Yay! I finally finished it! Typed this mostly one-handedly, I hurt my pinky finger :P. Super short because the school season started again, but I'm trying to get them out as soon as possible! Leona Allerton is the great Author-Hime's and Dennis Herd is the spectacular Team Shadow's. See you guys later!**


	12. Eleven- Power comes from other places

_**District Eleven**_

 _Power comes from different places_

* * *

 _Blair Wild, 20_

 _District Eleven Female Tribute_

* * *

" _We love you, remember that."_

" _Stay strong sweetie."_

I wake up with a start, the only thing I remember from my parents replaying over and over and over again in my head. Sweat trickles down my foreheads, beads of it along my arms and legs.

"Hey Blair," Nell asks, peeking her head into the room. "You okay?"

I smile at her, sitting on the small bed in my bedroom. "Yeah, I'm okay Hell."

She laughs at my nickname for her. "Whatever you say Flair," she replies with a huge smile.

I scowl at the name Flair. I hate the nickname she has for me, it reminds me too much of a ditzy blonde from District One. Nell sticks her tongue out at me, and sits on the bed beside me.

We are both orphans. We met a long time ago, when I turned three, after my parents were executed. It was really hard, being an orphan, but Nell helped me through it. She came up to me one day and asked me what my name was, and I replied "Blair." She then stuck with me, saying "Well then, Blair, I guess I'm stuck with you."

Nell's mom died giving birth to her, and her dad abandoned her mom when she told him she was pregnant. We looked out for her dad, but we can't find him. I think Nell's happier with that, her father seems like a complete ass.

We flip through catalogues of different districts, trying to look for other places to live. As much as I enjoy working on the fields and picking apples, District Eleven holds too many bad memories for us.

I point out District Two, which is in the mountains. It's really nice, and it's the richest district in Panem. Most people in Two are well-off, working with making weapons and other things for the Capitol. I can see myself living in Two, the snow there would be beautiful, as we don't have that in Eleven. I wonder what it would feel like to roll around in it.

Nell points out District One, then pretends to twirl her hair.

"No," I say. "No way."

She laughs, and I laugh along with her, shoving her playfully. She looked at District Four, easily the most beautiful district. I imagined the seaside hut we could live in.

We live in a little house near the fields. After we turned eighteen, too old for the games and the orphanage, we were assigned a small, two bedroom house. We were fine with it, it's more than enough for us.

We continue looking through District Four's catalogue, and I look through the train tickets, frowning at how expensive they were. "Nell, the tickets and house are really pricey," I tell her.

She looks through it, a sign of defeat washing through her eyes, but shrugs it off. "We both make decent pay. I think that we'd be fine, Blair, we'll get promotions eventually."

I nod, looking through each house, and imagining life there each time. It seems nice to have a plan, our life always just seems planned for us. This is a decision we can make ourselves. It is a decision we will make ourselves.

We won't let the Capitol control us anymore. We can do better, and we will when we move away from poverty and all of this. No one in Eleven is considered wealthy; the only one who's rich is the mayor. We are by far the poorest district, with only one victor to our name, Seeder Kaiser of the twentieth game. We are the laughing stock of the Capitol, along with Twelve. And I can't live with it anymore.

Nell goes to shower, and I'm glad to say that we have warm water. We pay extra for it, sure, but it's something that I can't help but appreciate in this district. I shower next, the sweat removed from my body, as well as the nightmares. I feel like I'm free, the shower just an opening to something new.

But as my mind goes back to reality, I know that even the hopes of everything we've ever wanted is out of reach. We're in the worst district to live in. We're poor. We have no chance at being free from the bonds the Capitol ties around us.

Nell and I rifle through the clothes we have. Nell tries on a pretty red dress with a sweetheart neckline that compliments her caramel skin and twirls, making a face. "I don't know about this one Flair." she bites her lip.

I give her a weird face. "Seriously Hell, you look amazing. Here," I toss her a pair of black slippers, "try that with it."

She looks in the cracked mirror and spins in it. She gives me a tentative smile, before sitting down in front of me. She pulls out a green dress and tosses it to me. "Try that."

We end up laughing because the dress on me is _so_ hideous that I just have to take it off. Nell is crying with tears of laughter as she rolls on my bed. I give her a mock frown before looking through the chest for something nicer.

The pale blue dress I found was my mother's. It is my size, and probably one of the things she left me before she died. I slip into it reluctantly, not sure what to do with it. My mother was a beautiful lady, and this dress might've been one of her favourites.

I gasp as I look at myself in the mirror. The blue dress manages to make me look beautiful, hugging me in the right places, complimenting my coffee coloured skin. Nell smiles at me. "That's the one Flair," she says, smoothening out her dress.

I nod, looking at myself in awe. "It's perfect."

I brush Nell's long chocolate brown hair and tie it into a bun. At the orphanage when we were young, we used to practice doing hair in our rooms before we went to sleep. The people running the orphanage never cared, they'd get paid either way. The fancy bun on Nell looks great, and she smiles brightly at me.

"I think you'd look gorgeous with a braid," she tells me, as she braids my curly black hair. It's sleek and perfect.

I slip on my brown shoes, and go to the kitchen to make some food. I roast the corn as Nell slices some apples, and we eat and tell jokes.

Eventually, we hear people outside, and know that it's soon to be the time of the reapings. We walk to the square.

We aren't supposed to be eligible this year, but since we're in the year of a 'Quarter Quell', anybody above the age of twelve is eligible.

Steven Stockholm, the mayor of Eleven, is wearing a stifling brown suit. His wife, Amartine Stockholm, is sitting beside Seeder Kaiser, the victor, wearing an elegant emerald green dress. I roll my eyes as their annoying and snobbish son, Dayley, joins us in the adult section. He is responsible for Thea Burton's death, after all. I voted for him to go into the games, and die in the way that Thea could've survived if he only sponsored her.

The Dark Days are sped through, and the escort Veridie Hiro comes up, with a muddy brown wig, probably something that's all the rage in the Capitol. He's absolutely hideous and scary, with ghost pale skin and animal-like features. He smiles wickedly, and calls the name out for the female tribute.

"Blair Wild!"

My mouth hangs open, and I can hear Nell crying. Did I hear it wrong? Is it someone else? But as Nell cries, I realize it is me. The district wants me to die. What the hell? So as I walk up, I kick the stones, my anger building up inside of me. It isn't fair. I hate this. I don't deserve to die.

Dayley Stockholm is no doubt reaped. He emotionlessly walks up to join his father and mother, who are both shocked and sad.

Nell's crying, and I wrap my arms around her. We only have each other. "Sh," I say, rubbing her back. "I'll be fine Hell."

She just sobs and sobs and I feel like crying too, but I don't. "I'm going to do well Nell, it's okay. I'll try to get sponsors and win."

Nell calms down. "You're- you're just the only thing I have left."

I want to cry now, but I hold it together. "I'm going to try Nell, I'm not going to jump off the podium and die. I'm going to fight."

Nell smiles, her eyes watery. "Give them hell from me, then, Flair."

She is escorted out, and a feeling of dread overcomes me. I don't think I will win. I don't think I'll survive.

How can I stay strong, Dad, if the world's against me?

* * *

 _Dayley "Day" Stockholm, 23_

 _District Eleven Male Tribute_

* * *

I take another swig of whiskey.

A rare and expensive thing in Eleven, but I'm rich. I can afford it.

I can almost see her now, I can almost be with her now. She's in my reach, her green eyes are just getting here. I reach out for her callused, tanned hand, but it goes through her, bringing me back to reality.

Thea is dead. She's been dead for six years now, and nothing will ever bring her back. I curl up and cry, leaning my head against the headboard of my bed, the memory of her last laugh forever in my mind, her beautiful smile so magnifying and fascinating it would have pulled anyone in.

I let her die. I let the love of my life, the only person who really, truly cared about me and my well-being, die at the hands of someone. A death that was so preventable if I only sponsored her at the beginning, and used my riches for something.

She was loved by everyone in Panem. Sweet, charming, smart, and beautiful, with her long curly brown hair and sparkly green eyes, a hit in the games. Everyone thought she could win. Everyone thought she'd be the first District Eleven victor.

I remember when she was first reaped. I cried so hard for her, but then things came to light. She could win. She is smart and surely would gain sponsors. And when she came back, we'd raise a family together in Victor's Village, finally happy.

That didn't go to plan. As soon as it hit the final four, Thea was murdered. The girl from Two, Styx, slit her throat, killing her instantly. All my plans, all my hopes, all my dreams, down the drain. Styx eventually died at the hands of Magnet Dem, the victor, but the damage was done. Thea Burton, the love of my life, was gone. Deceased. Done for. No longer here.

And it's my fault.

I slump on my bed, the whiskey sloshing in its bottle, but I don't care. I run my hands through my usually perfect blond hair, and throw up. Sobs hitch my throat, Thea's smile forever burned into my memories.

Why did she love me, when she could have anyone? Why did she choose me?

That, I will never know. Thea Burton's one secret died with her, and I too died on the day she did.

Everyone sees me as an asshole for not attending her district wide funeral. I couldn't live with the fact that she's dead. I still can't either.

I throw up again, my head throbbing, the alcohol doing its job. My heart's in pain. Everything hurts, everything just hurts.

"THEA!" I cry out, but no one answers.

I groggily make it to my washroom and take a pill to sooth my headache. It works, and I shower and remove the vomit from myself. Remorse is all over myself, nothing can wash away my guilt.

 _It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault_.

A clean, crisp white dress shirt and black dress pants from the Capitol are laid out on my bed when I'm finally smelling good again, and I put it on, combing my blond hair to perfection. The bloodshot in my blue eyes are gone, I look normal again.

I take the necklace with Thea's token, the thing I gave her before she went to the games, a promise ring with a green emerald just like her eyes, and put it on, a wishful sigh coming to my face.

I'm counting down the days until I can see her again.

I have many friends that join me, all clean and beautiful and popular, with me in the center. They gossip and chat and talk, but I zone out, wishing to be back at home, with my bottle. I remember that my throw up is still on the floor, but my maid can clean it up later. It doesn't matter, really.

My father wears a hideous brown suit this year, but my mother looks beautiful with an emerald green dress.

Blair Wild is reaped. She's strong, I guess, but I've never talked to her before, and never will. She could be our chance of a new victor.

But when I am reaped, I freeze.

They still hate me. They still blame me for Thea's death. It was either me or my dad, for sure, but I think that they hate me more. My mother is a sweet lady that tries to help others, while myself and my father do nothing as the people starve. I live in the lap of luxury, being the mayor's only son. Others starve to death.

I accept that I am a snob, another one of the many things I hate about myself, and emotionlessly walk up the stage.

I am greeted by my father and mother looking at me horrified, and Blair Wild's empty stare. We shake hands, mine clammy for sure, and get sent off to the very building my father works at.

My mother and father come in crying.

"It's okay," I say half-heartedly. "I'm fine."

They still cry, and I do my best to comfort them. When they go away, I stare at the ceiling, once again by myself.

I'm not scared of death, for a world without Thea Burton is one not worth living.

* * *

 **I'M DONE! District Eleven, that is. I finished this one quick because I'm a little behind schedule. All that's left is the District Twelve Reapings and the recaps, where some of you may learn why these people were reaped, instead of it making no sense. The formidable Clover owns Blair Wild and the brilliant primaryfocus owns Day Stockholm. See you guys later!**


	13. Twelve- It's always something I did

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW! PLEASE READ IT!**

* * *

 _ **District Twelve**_

 _It's always something I did_

* * *

 _Ashe Ellwood, 20_

 _District Twelve Female Tribute_

* * *

I have to hold my giggle as Shula and Blaise attempt to arm wrestle.

Their faces are welled up in extreme concentration, Blaise's blue eyes focused sharply on Shula's arms, Shula's tanned, skinny arms beaded with sweat.

Flint and Pele have to stuff their mouths in their arms, shaking with laughter, as my dad smiles softly at the five of us being happy. The only thing that could make this moment better is if my mother was alive.

Shula's arm eventually gives out, and his face is priceless. Blaise whoops, high fiving Flint, and Pele softly pats our youngest brother on the back, laughing a little at his defeated expression.

"I bet I can take Flint on as well," Blaise declares, puffing out his chest and flexing his almost non existent muscles. From that, Shula full out belly laughs, rolling on the coal dusted floor of our house. The side's of Pele's mouth are upturned into a sweet, soft smile, my little eighteen year old sister smiling brightly for one of the first times since she started down in the mines. Flint hoots, rolling up his dirty sleeves and flexing his muscles arrogantly, a smirk crawling up his face.

They both start to wrestle, but Blaise is soon defeated by his older, twenty one year old brother. His frown is hilarious, and I shriek with laughter. My dad is crying with tears of laughter, slapping his leg.

"Think you can do better dad?" Blaise asks, his looks of embarrassment overlooked. Dad shrugs, taking Blaise's seat across from Flint.

"I'm an old man," Dad tells us.

As they arm wrestle, Flint's look of shock is almost comical. I hoot as Dad beats Flint, and Flint rolls his eyes. "Next time then, old man," he looks at my father seriously. "Next time."

"Do you want to try it Ashe?" Dad asks, a smile upturning his lips. He looks like one hundred pounds was lifted off his shoulders, being carefree and happy once more.

In some ways, the reaping days are a blessing. Giving us time to not work, to spend time at home with our families, is something our family does every year. Maybe it's like a 'you can die in any moment and we want to make sure we've spent the most time with you', but either way, it's a nice type of feeling. Being surrounded by the ones you love the most is almost something I enjoy.

"Sure." I shrug.

Flint laughs, and Pele swats him. "Please, she'd kick your ass anyday, Flint."

I concentrate hard as I arm wrestle my dad, his muscles and my muscles working against each other. I narrow my eyes and I manage his arm down. I stand on the table. "I AM THE ELLWOOD HOUSE ARM WRESTLE CHAMPION!" I bellow.

Dad puts his hands up in mock defeat, Flint pouts, Pele smiles, Blaise laughs, and Shula rolls his eyes. I've won each and every arm wrestle match in this household, just a skill I have. We all end up laughing again and again and again, laughter and stomach pain filling our bellies.

I hum as we play president, with old playing cards from the Hob, or District Twelve's black market. We may be poor, but we are happy, as long as we are together. I can accept that my life will go nowhere, but I am happy.

I tend to not trust people, other than ones I really know. I don't know how to really… be a person, I guess. I guess I'm awkward… I don't really know.

I place a two down, burning Pele's ace. She glares at me, and I smile back, placing down my double kings. "I'm done," I say. "President."

We keep on playing different card games, mostly games our dad taught us from when there was a time before Panem. Crazy Eights is my favourite, but I'm really bad at it. President is the one I'm best at, I usually win. Shula is an ace at every other game, he's brilliant for a thirteen year old. If we didn't live in a world like this, he would be really successful when he grows older. I hope that he could get a job in town. Maybe he could try to be the mayor? We almost lost him ten years ago, to the fever that stole our mother away from us. We're very glad that he's still with us.

Blaise is fifteen, and very sporty. He is very popular at school, from what I know, but he is strong and kind and brave. He likes to run cross country, and anything the school can provide. He would go in the woods if he could, but the punishment is a fate worse than death.

Pele just joined Flint and I in the mines. She is very sweet, intelligent, and beautiful, a quiet type of strong. I think that a life in the apothecary shop would've suited her. She loves to help people, and often is the go to healer in the Seam while she's not working. I know for a fact that the apothecary boy has eyes for her, and she has eyes for him. It comforts me that she could have a better life in Town than one in the Seam.

Flint is loud but kind. The oldest out of the five of us, he's twenty one, and took a lot of responsibilities up after Mom died ten years ago. He went into the woods once, and snagged some herbs for Pele to use to heal Shula, and then just sold them to the apothecary shop. He knows the feeling of helplessness more than anything, assisting our father, who was sad and heartbroken by the death of the love of his life, at the young age of thirteen. He took the world on his shoulders and helped raise us, and for that, I'm truly grateful for him. He loves a girl named Charity Brooke, and they're going to get married in the fall, in the meadow when the colours start to change. I can't be more happy for them.

Dad is the strongest man I've ever known. Always strong for his family, even when the world seems against him, he relents. He lived for us, lived to raise his five children, and worked for extra jobs to make sure we won't starve. I took up washing clothing for him, and we made quite a lot of money from washing the people in Town's clothes. He will always have his family before him, which is truly admirable.

We will always have each others' backs. And that's what matters the most.

I twirl the tarnished silver ring that was my mother's on my finger.

Eventually, we have to shower and get ready for the reapings, and thankfully, we are all old enough to bathe ourselves.

Shula goes up and draws the bath for himself, and I hum as I clean the table from our breakfast of stew from Greasy Sae's, the new little place to eat at the Hob. Sae is around my age, already married and has kids. She's nice, and smiles a lot. She's a decent cook as well.

I bathe and put on a dull denim dress, tarnished black flats, and pull my curly, shoulder length hair into its usual ponytail. I sigh and look around, waiting for Flint and my dad to come out.

Dad chokes a little when he sees me, his grey eyes welling up with tears. "You look so much like your mom," he mutters to me, hugging each and every one of us. He tells each of us little things about them and our departed mom, and we head to the square.

The mayor, Grant Undersee, a kind, young man from One originally, but is not prejudice to the divide of Seam and Town. His wife is pretty with blonde hair and kind brown eyes.

Our escort is relatively normal compared to the freaks the other districts get. Leto Vine is in a golden dress, with her hair jet black, maybe to blend in with Twelve? She is very pale, but not scary pale. She talks ridiculously, however.

I missed all six years of being eligible for the games. I never had really worried about getting reaped, or just dying. But now…

I tremble, and my whole body shakes. Flint and Charity have to steady me, so I don't fall and cry. By them just helping me, I realize that I'll never see my big brother get married. I'll never see the apothecary boy finally ask Pele out, I'll never see Blaise graduate, and I'll never see more of Shula's potential. I bite my lip hard so I don't cry, and tremble, and fall. The waterworks well up, but I steady myself. I am strong. I will try. But I might drop down dead any second, especially in the games.

Blaise, for the first time since Mom died, is sobbing. Flint's eyes are bloodshot. Pele is on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Shula is holding himself, tears and remorse all over his face. And my dad… looks like he just died on the inside.

I don't know who was reaped for the males. I don't know who he is, what he looks like, or if he's from the Seam or the Town. All I can see is a blur, colours and tears swamping my vision. Nothing makes sense.

I don't know why I was reaped, or why I deserve to go.

The Justice Building is sad and dark, and the peacekeepers throw me and my partner into separate rooms.

Dad and my family comes in, all looking like they cried all the way here. I don't doubt that they did.

"Try to win for me Ashy, try to live for all of us. Sweetie- please. You just look so much like your mum-" he sobs onto the floor, and Pele comforts our strong father, who held the world for us.

"I'm sorry I won't be able to see you get married to Charity," I mumble to Flint.

He shakes his head, his eyes wide and sad. "No- don't say that. You'll come home- promise me that."

I shake my head no. "I can't," I whisper.

We all group hug, together for my last living day in Twelve, until the Peacekeepers forcefully throw them out.

Annette, my best friend since I was little, visits me as well. She knows that I am about to cry. She's knows that I will break any second. "Hey," she whispers. "You'll be okay. You're strong, you know your stuff. The Capitol will be pretty, I know that it will be."

I nod uselessly, as she gives me one last long hug, and I cry into her shoulder, letting loose, for once in my life. When the Peacekeepers arrive, she leaves, sending me one last tearful look as goodbye.

The Capitol won't be pretty. It will be painted with blood. Blood of all of us sent to die.

* * *

 _Shadow Tin, 19_

 _District Twelve Male Tribute_

* * *

I am scared of the mines.

I work in them, yes, but I can't deal with the aftermath. After all, my whole family is dead because of them.

I was seventeen when we all went to the mines for a trip. My dad, my mom, and my little brother Cole all went with me to the mines, but there was an explosion. Screams, shouts, and cries, it killed them all as soon as it exploded. But me?

I am still alive. I am still alive, when I should be dead.

Everyone thinks it's my fault. I don't deny it, I don't deny that they think that I'm a murderer. After all, I was the only one who lived. I was the only person who saw what happens.

I am also the main suspect for the explosion. The people of Twelve think I killed my family. They think that I planned the explosion, that I am responsible for their deaths.

I don't deny it, because I should be dead as well. But I'm not, I'm still alive and kicking, while Cole should still be alive, not ten feet under, still buried deep in the collapsed mines.

I am an outcast. No one wants to be around me. No one wants to be around a _murderer_. I don't mind, I like being alone anyway.

When I was eighteen, I stumbled along a crying girl, around two years younger than me, who was heavily pregnant. She was crying against a house, clutching her big belly, looking out hopelessly.

I offered to help her. I told her my name, and she told me hers. Her name is Slatia, named after the only victor of Twelve.

She lost the baby the next day. I've never seen so much blood… it was everywhere, along with her grief. She cried and cried and cried, and I comforted her, soothed her, and told her it was okay.

She told me that she was kicked out of her house for being pregnant. She was knocked up by a jackass from Town at the slag heap, who cast her out as well when she told him she was pregnant with his child. She was alone, and had no one.

We grew close, becoming best friends. I offered her a place to live, a place to stay because she was no longer welcome at home. She accepted, moving into my house. We met a guy named Collis at the Hob, when he was brooding along Slatia's shop, a little charm booth.

We confronted him, and he said that he wasn't looking at anything. He was dark, just like the both of us, and didn't speak much, but we welcomed him.

He happened to be an orphan as well. So he and Slatia both live in the house that used to be my parent's, but I'm okay with that. I'm not alone anymore, I have people to talk to, people to trust.

We slip under the hole in the fence and go to the meadow, the prettiest thing about Twelve.

Slatia smiles a rare smile, one that she would only reserve for when she's truly happy, and Collis sits quietly, plucking at blades of grass and breaking tree branches. I lay on the grass, just staring at the sun, alreading in our reaping clothes.

The sun is an indefinite thing. It's brilliant and beautiful, but unreachable and can burn your eyes. I don't like the sun, however, I like what comes with it. I like to lurk in the background, behind the scenes, noticed by no one. Ironically, I like to delve in the shadows.

In the shadows, there's only you and your thoughts. You can hear what anyone is saying, learn anything interesting, and just have time to yourself. In the darkness, no one will notice you or judge, a sense of peace is just what comes with it. I prefer to be in the darkness rather than the light. The light gets all the attention.

Day is nice, but too overwhelming sometimes. In the night, the meadow is the most beautiful. You can see the stars, like the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, and Orion, and have an overwhelming sense of beauty.

Night is always beautiful. The moon is just more serene than the sun. The moon provides the light for the night, but won't burn you. It is silver, not gold, and is just more subtle. I am the moon. The people in Town are the sun.

Eventually, I can hear people getting up and ready for the games, which unfortunately means that there are Peacekeepers. We slip from under the fence and head to the square.

I am not scared of death. But I don't want to die at the hands of someone else. Maybe that's why I'm so terrified of the games.

Mayor Undersee, who gives a brilliant, megawatt smile to the district, is reading the Dark Days. I can see his eyes flicker to his wife. The mayor is a good man, but I guess I'd like him more if he cleared my name.

Ashe Ellwood, who is loud and brutish is reaped for the games. I can see that she is sad, and I would be too. She has four other siblings, and her mother was stolen away by the yellow fever.

I am reaped. I know why, they all think I killed my own family. Slatia sobs from beside me, and I pat her back, telling her it will be okay. I am angry. I did not kill my parents and Cole, I didn't kill anyone. Yet the district _blames_ me, for the death of my _own family_ , while I had to deal with the heartbreak and feeling of guilt and loneliness. They think I am a killer. They are wrong, all of them are!

I put a false smile on my face, pretending that I am happy, but I am very mad inside.

Slatia and Collis are my only visitors, as expected. Slatia is sobbing, and she places a shadow charm in my hand.

"I- I thought of you when I made it. You've helped me through everything Shadow, I'm going to miss you so much!" she cries, launching herself into my arms and I soothe her.

Collis pats me on the back, saying the most words we've ever heard him say. "You're an awesome friend Shadow, you helped me a lot, you've picked me up." He looks at me seriously now, his eyes that are usually vacant filled with so much emotion. "You can win. You are good at blending in, not being noticed. I know you can win. Slatia and I can't live without you."

I nod, and they leave, Slatia's sobs breaking my heart.

I was reaped for false reasons. I'm not a murderer, they just make me to be one.

* * *

 **And the reapings are done! Okay, so there will be the reaping recaps because I want you to meet the mentors. Review or PM me with who you want to be allies with your tribute, and I'll try to accommodate, unless the owner has something else in mind. Again, tell me who you want to be allied with your tributes, because that's really important. You don't have to if you already have a specified ally group (Careers). If you don't, I'm just going to put them alone, or just put them in a random group. Anyway, Ashe Ellwood is Author-Hime's and Shadow Tin is Clover's. See you guys later!**


	14. Reaping Recaps- The Chosen to Die

_**THE TWENTY-FIFTH HUNGER GAMES, FIRST OF THE QUARTER QUELLS**_

 _The lucky tributes who are chosen to be in the games!_

 _Everything you missed!_

* * *

 _Tilver Calix, 28_

 _Victor of the Fourteenth Hunger Games, District One Mentor_

* * *

The fact that there even was a Quarter Quell is outrageous.

The tributes should be deserving to go into the games. They should have the glory of volunteering, the power. Not have some measly person, someone that may have even not trained in the academy, take their spot, their glory.

In his career, albeit a quite short one, of being a mentor, he's had one winning tribute. A gorgeous, young and deadly Shimmer Midas, who was as bright as her name. He's almost had five victors, which was a good thing considering that making it past the final four is hard (apparently, he would never know).

Tilver had earlier sifted through the votes, having been accessed them because he was a victor, and was very displeased by the choices. Although, having to know the person who you'll send off to glory and fame is a nice thing, anyone who knew the people going in would be sorely disappointed. He's worked with Shimmer, Gleam, and Valour (the latter two have sent him home successfully) and they've all groaned at the female choice.

He watches young, small Anastasia Ripley, who was his age when he won, head onto the stage with a smile plastered on her face.

No no no! She isn't strong, like the obvious best candidate Victoria Price, or as skilled or as well seasoned with weapons. She isn't what the Capitol would like in a District One female: platinum blonde hair, beautiful emeralds as eyes, perfect bodies. She was skinny, too skinny, with boring brown eyes and auburn hair. She won't win sponsors, unless she proves herself.

He hears Shimmer, his fellow mentor this year, groan beside him, and he knows that she isn't close to being excited about mentoring this disappointment. He wanted Victoria Price, who was eighteen and a perfect candidate. He thought District One was better than that, not being so petty and reaping a boring girl. They need another victor! Two's beating them now, and One needs to break their two year streak!

Next, Trixibella pulls out the lone slip from the bowl.

He knows this one will be a good one, and he licks his lips.

Platinum is strong, muscular, and athletic. He was in the academy before, being an ace with any sort of blade, He is rumoured to have killed three people, and is fabled to be slightly insane. It's okay, though, Tilver can work with insane. It's always better to have someone with experience, he'd say.

Platinum comes up with a neutral expression on his face. Tilver knows that he has potential, that One might break Two's two year streak.

Watching Platinum Worth, he knows that they have a chance.

* * *

 _Phoebe Caesar, 20_

 _Victor of the Twenty-Third Hunger Games, District Two Mentor_

* * *

As the Capitol's favourite district, Phoebe Caesar knows that the district won't disappoint.

No one wants to send shitty tributes into the games, that would just put shame on the district, and Two gets all the glory. Having been boasted of the first victor, they always brought in the most sponsors. Five victors put them in the lead as the number of victors, and this year's picks will probably make them six.

She's won her games two years ago, mentored by Aurora and Freya, as the favourite. She's mentored Roman Troy and his partner Lenna Slate, and brought home Roman, who was the favourite and still is. Two's been pretty lucky, the funding to the academy has been going up like crazy, ensuring that Two will have stronger tributes.

The Quarter Quell is unique.

Phoebe is pretty sure that it was just made up as vengeance for the death of President James Starling, by his wife Lucia, to the districts. She knows that this year, the tributes from Eleven will have the Gamemakers' targets on their backs. It doesn't matter now, though, because with the raised age, she knows the best will finally get back.

The picks for the female are clear this year. As expected, Alexis Penn is reaped. Phoebe can see herself in her, she's good with aim and fast. She's seen her train in the academy, she knows she's good.

She's going to try to let Alexis home, but when the male is reaped, she blanches.

Caydin Armon, her and her boyfriend's best friend, is reaped. A smirk brushes up on her features, because this is really the best you can go. He's been the best in the academy since he was fifteen, which is unbelievable but it actually happened. He's an ace at any weapon but the bow, which will make things easier for him. They've been partners in training since they were little, and she was shocked but grateful when he didn't volunteer two years ago. If he did, she's pretty sure she wouldn't have came home.

Poor Rhea, she thinks for a brief time. Her best friend's little sister is adorable, with her mom's long black hair and her big brother's huge gold eyes. Well, Rhea might be the sister of a future victor, the first ever Quarter Quell victor. She knows that Caydin loves his sister, and that the reason he didn't volunteer two years ago was for her. It would break her heart to see Rhea's reaction if her brother didn't come home; Maximus would certainly push for the sweet, innocent young girl to become a killer for the games. She couldn't bear to see that happen.

She looks over to Ajax, her boyfriend, who beams at her brightly. She smiles back, as Caydin and Alexis shake hands.

The Games were always the glory of the district, the reason why people loved their district. They produce the best, and only the best. Every single trainee in the academy can kill people with twelve or more different ways. They know how to play the crowds, they know what to do to make the Gamemakers happy. They were trained to be the stars, to be the sole purpose.

"We have a chance at having a victor," she tells Roman beside her.

He nods. "Alexis Penn and Caydin Armon? That's the best we can go. It's like the district is already giving us an easy time."

And looking at the two gorgeous tributes for this year's games, Phoebe can find herself agreeing. It's almost certain that Two will have a victor this year, whether it's Alexis or Caydin.

May the strongest win.

* * *

 _Techna Huxley, 29_

 _Victor of the Ninth Hunger Games, District Three Mentor_

* * *

Techna remembers once standing in that crowd of fearful thirteen year olds, sixteen years ago.

Three stands proudly as the third biggest district, with three thousand six hundred ninety six people, with two thousand seven hundred and thirty nine eligible for the Quarter Quell.

One of the earliest victors for the games and an alumni, Techna was never a favourite to win. Being a measly thirteen year old when she was chosen and reaped for the games, she was a clear not victor.

Techna won by her wit.

Being small and weak compared to the other tributes gave her an advantage. She killed the boy from One with a trap, then dragged his body and plunged the girl from Four's stolen knife into his body, thus breaking up the Careers. They all turned on the girl from Four and her partner, killing them both.

She watched it come down to just the one Career before she killed the girl from One by a sneak attack. Being crowned victor, one of the youngest ever in history gave her a lot of fame.

Her pale skin is sweating now, as she looks across the district. The twelve year olds look fearful, clutching each other tightly. The thirteen year olds are all clustered together nervously, almost silent. The older the groups get, the more worrisome they become. It's a never-ending cycle, everyone lives in fear.

The air is chilly and cool, the breeze making Techna shiver in her seat. She's alone again. She hasn't brought home a tribute ever, she's the sole victor of Three. Many have made it far, but have gotten cleaved down by Careers. Cable, one of the cuckoos from the Capitol, bounces in his seat beside her. She tries not to look. His bright orange hair contrasts the district too much.

The games have cost her a lot; her family is dead. She lives alone in Victor's Village, as no one wants to talk to the little girl who lost her family too soon. She misses them, and knows that whoever wins this year wouldn't really win. It's all a lie.

A fat middle-aged lady is reaped, with flaming red hair and a scowl on her face. From what she can grab about her tribute, she is a teacher, probably an awful one. Techna can understand why she was reaped. She seems truly awful.

A little boy is reaped. He hails from the thirteen year old section, being slightly chubby with pale blond hair and watery green eyes. He looks very displeased and sad, and Techna wonders why he would be chosen by the district to die. He is the same age as when Techna entered the games, and his green eyes glitter with unsung intelligence. He may have a chance.

Techna purses her lips, wondering if she could try and bring this little boy home. He has a family, someone to go home to. It's unfair to have someone die so young. A little bit of hope blossoms in her.

Three is often overlooked, but they house some of the most intelligent tributes. Maybe this little boy, this Ceemore Miller, will not die at the hands of someone else. Maybe he'll live, with a certain luck that she had. Perhaps Three will finally have another victor, they've been deprived of one for sixteen years, way too long.

All Techna does is hope, because in a world where everything seems like it's made for you to fail, it's all you can do.

And it's all she knows how to do.

* * *

 _Mags Flannagan, 30_

 _Victor of the Eleventh Hunger Games, District Four Mentor_

* * *

The seaside breezes have always calmed her.

She's scared for him. She's seen him after his parents died, made sure he was okay. She helped him out, and now he might go to the hell she escaped from fourteen years ago.

Mags Flannagan may be older than she was before, but she is still able bodied and resourceful. She's tired, and just wants to rest. The mayor is beaming at his son, a fellow victor named Salton Seabar, and she slumps into her chair.

Mags won by fishing. She made her fish hooks, and used them as bait for the tributes. There, she'll kill them. She's not married, but she's happy single, running her fish shop with Coral, her little sister.

Her fellow victor Teal is chattering away with Salton, and Mags rolls her eyes. Teal won in a glorious, bloody way, and now she wants her daughter to do the same. Mags has seen young Anemone train, she's good but too arrogant. Arrogance kills people in the worst way possible.

Teal's been talking about her daughter giving back glory to the district by being the victor of the first Quarter Quell, and Mags sighs. Glory, glory, glory, that's the way everyone sees it.

She's seen it in a different light, she's seen way too much. The blood, the horrors of killing, the life leaving your victims' eyes, it's just terrifying. There's no glory in being a killer. And that's what she is.

She wants to hide away in her fish shop and greet people with open arms and fresh lemonade, but she can't. Along the actually victory of the expense of twenty-four other lives, she has a duty of having to mentor people.

The scars of the games have never left her, though she's pretended. Nightmares haunt her, Fay's life leaving her eyes. Her first kill. Her last, when it came down to her and the boy from Nine, Lennox, she killed him ruthlessly. At least this year, no one can volunteer. No one can make the same mistake she did fourteen years ago.

She hides behind a smile, no one notices a thing. Everyone sees her as Four's sweetheart, so untouchable and unfalteringly kind that even the Games couldn't diminish her light. Only Coral, her little sister who is much younger than her, knows, but only a little bit. Her parents are dead because of her mistakes. Coral only knows that they drowned. She doesn't know why.

Anemone Williams is reaped. Four is behind on the favours from the Capitol, One and Two beating them out. Mags doesn't think Anemone will bring them back. She's as shallow as she is pretty. Anemone sashays up confidently, her eyes glittering with malice and bloodthirst. She will be vicious, even though her arrogance will kill her. A tough enemy to have in the games, the non Careers will have to watch out.

Mags recalls her getting reaped four years ago. Oh yes, Teal had squealed when she heard it, but then, someone else had gotten into Teal and Anemone's way. Wave Currents had volunteered for her long time best friend, taking the glory that was Teal and Anemone's. Wave did outstanding, getting a nine, an average for a girl from District Four, one of the stronger ones they've ever had. Teal was grumbly, not getting to mentor her daughter as planned, but instead her upstart best friend. Wave had made it far, as Mags could recall, until the feast, when the boys from Ten, Eleven, and Twelve ganged up on her, killing her.

When the boy's name is being called, Mags sits to the edge of her seat.

 _Please,_ she prays. _Not him_. The poor boy's suffered too much, losing his parents, oh Mags couldn't bear to have him go into the hell she's escaped long ago. He's popular, handsome, athletic, and hardworking, an easy choice for Four to try to send the best in. They of course don't know the fall of love for Four, but they do try.

" _Elias Bryan_."

It takes all of her willpower not to cry. She looks over at her little sister, her tears filling her eyes. Coral looks at Elias desperately, as if she could take his place. Unlike the other kind of love Elias gets from the girls in the district, he and Coral genuinely like each other. Coral loves him, and it breaks Mags' heart to see her little sister so broken.

Elias himself looks neutral, his eyes far off, looking at her sister. It comforts Mags to see that, but then realization hits her.

For Elias to come home, he'll have to outlive twenty three other people, at least five of which will be trained to kill him. She knows Two won't disappoint, and that it's not going to be easier for him.

Looking at Coral's broken face though, her tanned face streaked with tears, green eyes filled with despair, she knows that she will have to try and bring Elias Bryan home.

She's spent fourteen years trying to protect her little sister, and she won't let the death of Coral's love break her now. Coral is strong, but she doesn't know when she'll crack.

And when it comes down to it, Mags Flannagan will do anything to make sure her little sister is okay.

* * *

 _Magnet Dem, 21_

 _Victor of the Nineteenth Hunger Games, District Five Mentor_

* * *

He won by a fluke.

He knows it, Deena, his mentor knows it, and the Capitol for sure knows it.

It wasn't worth it to live. Nothing could make up for the pain he was soon to feel at the feeble, weak age of eighteen. His girlfriend Luna, dead, sprawled on the floor, look of shock covering on her features, looking beautiful but cold in death. His mother, her mouth forever etched in a silent scream, even in death. His father, so proud and kind, hunched over the bathtub, blood spilling out from him.

 _A warning_.

For those who think they escaped all worries, and have a free ticket through the rest of your life. Because the Capitol doesn't hand out tickets out of pain, they make you feel it. Endless, endless pain. Everyday living with the reminder that it's _your_ fault that they're dead, that your family and twenty three other people are dead. Because of you.

The morphling buzzes through him, giving him a sense of high, and for a fleeting second, freedom.

Morphling is a funny thing. Made from the very thing that can kill you in an instance's leaves, it's called morphling for that very reason. You can either boil the nightlock leaves and make it a concoction that will relieve you of pain, or you can chew it up and cover the wound. He uses it to forget, because that's all he's wanted for the last three years.

The Capitol doesn't want the small and tiny to win, they want the good looking, well bred people from the Career districts. Training for the games is technically illegal, but the Capitol lets it slide because One, Two, and Four produce some of the best tributes, and they just can't stop now, can they? Most years, the Careers will win, more so than before. The training gets more intense, the instructors former victors themselves. Funding comes from the Capitol, fueling it even more. It isn't fair, but even though Five is the fourth richest district, they can't afford it, which is why Magnet's tributes always die on him.

He spaces out through the readings, his slate grey eyes rolling to the top of his head. The Capitol never liked him anyway, he doesn't have to please them anyway. Everyone he cares about is dead. What more does he have to lose?

Deena hits him on the back of his head by the time the drawings are about to start.

" _Watch,"_ she hisses, her icy blue eyes glaring at him. He nods numbly, staring ahead.

A little girl named Heather Myra is reaped. _Myra,_ that last name sounds familiar.

Magnet remembers long ago, when he was younger, when his dad was alive.

His father would constantly complain about his awful day, caused by the girl's father himself, Dave Myra.

Long, unnecessarily long hours, lower wages than some from Twelve, and lots of heartache and pain, Dave Myra's foundation for his wealth comes from the blood, sweat and tears of his employees. Everyone knows about it, but no one would say anything about it. Dave Myra brings in a lot of jobs, more so the Capitol won't have to take some of their precious money and pay the low lifes.

Magnet briefly wonders if the little, naïve girl is aware about how corrupt and cruel her father is, but when words finally flow out of the seemingly mute girl's mouth, he knows that she doesn't.

"Why?" she asks, her eyes filled with betrayal and heartbreak. "What did I ever do to you?"

Now, Magnet's mind is being cleared from the morphling by this, sobering himself up. His heart breaks for the little girl, having to pay for her father's crimes, unaware of anything. He looks down, and Deena stiffles a sob beside him. Deena has a little one herself at home, a little two year girl named Nina, and is no doubt thinking about her. He hopes Deena will be able to hold it together when she mentors little Heather Myra.

Already heartbroken from the female tribute, he soberly looks at the ridiculous escort. Please, please, please not another heartbreaking one. Don't have the little girl compete against her father.

Watt Emerson, a good, strong hearted man is reaped, and that's when Magnet calls bullshit.

Dave Myra was to be reaped, he almost guaranteed it. Now, he wouldn't like mentoring father and daughter, but paying your way out of the games-? Watt Emerson was reaped in the stead of Dave Myra because the weasel didn't want to go into them. It isn't fair, it's not fair at all.

Magnet stares out into the district, not sure of what to make of the tributes.

But one thing he knows for sure is that he'll stay sober, and try to bring one of them home.

All the failures he's had in his life will have to give him one success.

Heather Myra or Watt Emerson will be his every effort to bring one of them home.

If it's the last thing he'll do, he'll try for Luna.

* * *

 _Kirk Casey, 20_

 _Victor of the Twenty Second Hunger Games, District Six Mentor_

* * *

Can this be over with yet?

As a recent victor, Kirk Casey still has a lot of spotlight on him. Being generally younger than the rest, he still has his good looks, which is what mainly propelled him forward.

Today is a sad day, almost everyone is wearing black today, because of a sacrifice. Kirk can kind of sympathise, Shannon Farley is a good woman.

But honestly, he can't really care. He has people in the Capitol to please by just being camera ready and such, not to diddle daddle in the reapings. His tributes were dumb and barely scraping the barrel for looks, making it harder for Kirk to try and give them sponsors.

He is loved by the Capitol, but his tributes are not.

The district is quiet, and Kirk rolls his eyes.

The people of the Capitol don't pay attention to Six, the most average district, which is ironic because it is the middle district, easily overlooked. There's not as much waterworks as there is for Ten to Twelve, or gushes like One, Two, and Four. It's just middle class kids that don't starve, and aren't spectacular.

Plain, average Six. Nothing more.

Kirk hates his district for that. He was overlooked until the chariot rides, when the Capitol finally saw him and noticed him for his looks. He got an eight for them, the best score Six has ever gotten. The glory he had gotten was so rare, that his assigned mentor himself was shocked.

" _They never like Six!"_ he had told him, his watery green eyes wide with disbelief. " _Well, you are just so… boring. No one likes boring, I guess. So nobody likes Six. You are above average, the first we've gotten since… I don't know, the beginning. We only have boring tributes, now that I think about it."_

His mentor kept on ranting, as his poor district partner (he doesn't remember her name, it was lost with the parties and fame) looked out the glass of the apartment, spaced out, uncaring of the world. Poor her.

Kirk had smirked only, his face perfectly fitting it. He is still one of the most handsome victors in the history of victors, neither disfigured or broken.

In other words, Kirk was _sick_ of average. He hoped this male tribute gave him some spice, something to work with. He voted for Cooper Aranrhod, a handsome eighteen year old who was bound to get sponsors. He wants someone who isn't bland, but will spice up the otherwise boring district.

Vanity, oh dear, sweet Vanity, smiles at the crowd, her blue lips pulled into a smile. Unlike the rather drab and sad crowd, she stands out, with her happiness and colour.

That's what Kirk needs. Someone to stand out.

The crowd doesn't smile back at her, and Kirk rolls his eyes. If you don't pretend to seem happy, it's boring. When will the district get on with it?

"Shall we begin?" she asks sweetly, placing her dark hand delicately on the glass reaping bowl.

A sad murmur spreads through the crowd, tears forming up in many people's eyes. Kirk rolls his eyes once more, sickened by the fact that they were sad that Shannon Farley will go. Come on, she's like eighty! She's lived a full life, there's no need to be sad! Just let him go to the Capitol already.

Poor Vanity gives him a helpless look, and he gives her a look of pity. She gives the crowd a nervous smile, suddenly unsure of what to think. "I'll take that as a yes!" she exclaims, her voice an octave higher because of how confused she was. "As always, ladies first! Oh, I'm so excited!"

The tension in the air can be cut with a knife. Kirk can sense it, as well as Vanity. Her delicate hand brushes over the only slip in the bowl, and she gives a wide smile as she reads the name. "Ms. Shannon Farley!"

The district is silent as Shannon Farley gracefully smiles sadly, walking through the crowd. It parts with her, silent tears streaming through the faces of every single person in the crowd. Vanity gives him a weirded out looked, and Kirk cringes.

She bites her lip worriedly, and Kirk nods at her. He watches the escort dust herself off, forcing another smile to hide her confusion. "And now for the male… Ford Denholm!"

An old man looks out sadly, a woman beside him whom Kirk presumes is his wife collapses sobbing. These… these elderly people are his tributes?

Kirk slumps against his chair, his shoulders falling with defeat. He won't get a good tribute this year, all hope is lost.

He can't believe that for the three years of mentoring, he hasn't gotten one single good tribute. One good one, is that too much to ask?

District Six most likely won't get a new victor in a long time.

* * *

 _Anthony Feyr, 39_

 _Victor of the Fourth Hunger Games, District Seven Mentor_

* * *

She's just a little girl.

Willow, that is.

He knows that the kids don't like her because of him, because of her wealth, because of _his_ status. His wealth, his victory, his so called glory. She gets picked on by the kids, and that only adds onto his nightmares. He can't let his daughter go through the same hell he did. She will break, even though he knows that she is strong.

She is her mother's daughter after all.

He is grateful for his wife, for putting up with his nightmares. But the things he saw… the things he did… _the blood on his hands_. His darling Amy, with her pale skin and pretty auburn hair. He's glad that Willow got her warm brown eyes and light dusting of freckles, something he's always teased his wife about.

Amy helps him through his nightmares, which all include of certain things. Willow becoming an Avox, Amy becoming an Avox, or Willow just going into the games. His one screw up could kill his loved ones, a warning President James Starling had given him twenty one years ago, when he just won his games. An outsider, not one of the Capitol's favourite district, someone no one wanted to win. Yes, he was handsome, but not the favourite. He was named victor with the crown on his head, but the crown was suffocating him, choking him, not letting him go.

Oh poor Amber, his district partner, who was sweet and kind. She made it so far, but then was cut down. He cried so hard, but tried to win for her. He _promised_ to win for her, and he did.

The guy from Nine, the one who killed her, he was his first kill. He is also the face he sees every night when he goes to bed. His eyes… full of horror. His voice. _Please, I have a girlfriend at home. We're going to have a kid, a little boy. Please. Please. Please._

The next? A girl from Two, her death simple, a knife to the heart. He could see the life leave her eyes, the blood choked out, a silent scream. He sees it every night as well.

Amber, choking him, gripping his shoulders. _You could have saved me. You could have saved us all. Why didn't you?_

"Anthony!" Birch's voice snaps him back. He feels the tears welling up in his eyes, and he wipes them away quickly so the cameras don't see him.

Birch was twelve when he was reaped. He was a scrawny, sad kid, but he was smart. Determined.

" _My momma says I need to try for her. She doesn't want to lose me like she did my daddy."_

Birch had broke his heart. Willow was five, and he could see Willow there, not Birch. He tried so hard, he tried so hard to bring him home, and for the first time in twelve years, he had brought a person home.

Birch had always looked after him after he sent him the food, only trading it for a part of his soul. More time in the Capitol then. He knew about the flashbacks and memories he got. He knew about the haunting details. He was the one to snap him out.

He is the only one to know about the horrors, to an extent. The guy was only a kid when he won, but saw people die. He grew up with it. And to some part, Birch is like his son. He cares for him as well.

"You're scared for her, aren't you," Birch tells him. Birch, now twenty one years old, can see through him. By seeing so much as a tender, young age, he is wiser beyond his years.

Anthony puts his head in his hands, tears welling up in his eyes again. He rubs his head, fighting off his migraine and tears. He nods quietly. "She's my baby girl, the only person I can really keep out of this."

"She doesn't understand your hell."

But, he notices a familiar face walk up to the stage, and he blanches. No no no no no. This is a nightmare. This can't be real. His baby girl, his little Willow, oh my god.

"Pinch me," he instructs Birch. Birch complies, and he blinks. But Willow is still coming up, crying. He puts his face in his hands and starts to sob. Birch rubs his back, soothingly, as he cries.

Willow asks something, but all he can see is red. He can only see the district, the people who voted a sixteen year old to die. It should have been him. It should have been the person who caused her to be rich, the person who started it all.

But they will blame her, because you can't take things out on a victor.

He doesn't know who is reaped for the males, but he can't help but die on the inside. Amy looks over at him helplessly, tears streaming down her face.

His baby girl is going to fight to survive. He won twenty one years ago, but people are training to live now. He'll have to fight to let her survive. And he will, because she's his daughter. His entire world.

* * *

 _Woof Dozier, 27_

 _Victor of the Thirteenth Hunger Games, District Eight Mentor_

* * *

He wants to bring someone home this year.

He really, really does, but it's hard for him to do that. No one has the motivation to win, no one really wants to survive. Only Paige Waft had the will to live. She regrets it now, just like him. He rubs his temples, sighing deeply, and wants to sleep.

He knows that no one is safe. The mayor's wife, beautiful yet snobby, Violet, is not safe, but she has enough friends to not vote for her.

District Eight is fairly peaceful, the mayor is nice, caring, and tries to help the living conditions of Eight. With the new presidency, Woof doesn't think he will live much longer. That, or something might happen to his pretty daughter.

Woof fleetingly looks over to his wife, who beams at him patting her stomach. Beside her, his two year old son is leaning on his mommy, holding hands with her and his mother. His little one will be a girl this time. He just wishes that he wouldn't miss the month, even though she's only five months along. He just hates his job, that's it.

Paige hums blankly over, gone from the world. She's crazy, just bat shit crazy. Drunk on morphling, it's probably singing through her bloodstream. She's seen too much for a fourteen year old, he can sympathise, but not really. He wishes that he didn't bring her home, she would be happier dead. He knows it.

She's only eighteen too… he hopes she doesn't overdose, but she doesn't have anyone left. He knows it's cruel, but he really doesn't like to see people suffer. It hurts him too much. She sings a song, one that is illegal, but the covers her ears and screams. Woof covers her mouth, and no one notices.

Only Violet Regalia does, and she tosses him a look of disgust. He rubs her back as she cries out for something, and then stops. She looks blankly at the sky, her eyes empty.

Woof wishes that she was better. In many ways, Paige is just a kid. But the access to the morphling is just so easy for her to get, and Paige was traumatized by the games. She was going nowhere, and the Capitol wanting a victor, not a girl. So one day, Woof was over, holding her hair as she threw up, from another restless night, and a knock was heard. She got it, despite his protests, and ripped it open.

Inside were several dozen bottles of green liquid and needles, staring accusingly at them. He had recognized it right away. It was morphling.

She had used it right after he left, and he heard a sigh of contempt. He didn't think she would, but then she became hollow.

She would hum at random moments, scream at others, and do absolutely nothing in between. It broke his heart. Her face became an ugly version of the once beautiful, carefree girl. Her eyes are always red, and he wants to cut her off.

But the addiction got too far now. She'll die or have a horrible migraine if she gets off it. She will never be the same, and Woof just has to accept it.

Woof wants to smash the bottles, and get her to a normal state once more. President Lucia Starling wouldn't like that. But, maybe Paige will be happier if she's dead.

The escort, a new one named Relivia Crayole, comes up. She doesn't know how to speak to the district, but the mayor must have helped her through the process. She smiles at the crowd, and he knows she's nervous.

Unlike most of the people in Panem, he can sympathise with the people of the Capitol. He knows that she is nervous, scared even, to mess up. He knows that the people will laugh at her, tease her, and make her feel awful.

She may look freaky, but she's still a human too.

She shakily pulls the name out, biting her lip sadly as she looks over the name. She almosts stutters, something only Woof catches, and she trembles. She's most likely in shock with the name.

"Harper Regalia!" she manages.

Harper. The mayor's little girl, the district princess. He remembers when he won the games, something around twelve years ago. She was eight back then, adorable with her caramel coloured hair pulled into two pigtails and her violet eyes, so rare, something he's never seen before, looking at him with wonder.

She had asked if he wanted to see her knives, and him, an awkward fifteen year old with absolutely no idea of how to approach an eight year old, had awkwardly said yes. The mayor had beamed, and she quietly showed him downstairs.

She hit all the targets square in the chest. For a little eight year old, she was seriously formidable. And now, seven years later, Harper is in the same place as he was.

Noah Weaver was also reaped. A thief, a very good thief, and Woof was happy with his choices.

He knows that both of them have the makings to win. All he can see is the little eight year old girl looking at him in awe, asking to show him her knives. He can see a little infant, crying in his dead mother's arms, all alone.

How can he mentor two children though?

* * *

 _Rosemary Thyme, 34_

 _Victor of the Seventh Hunger Games, District Nine Mentor_

* * *

She's the Capitol's darling.

A beauty, a sweetheart, adored by all, hated by not many. She had brought glory to a once shameful district, a glory that she struggles to uphold.

She's older now. A family, married, a mother, but the Capitol won't leave her alone. She wishes to live her life in peace, happy peace, but she can't. Because she has a job to do.

And Rosemary really, really hates her job.

Sending kids off to their deaths is not fun, believe her when she says that. She butters up the potential sponsors, smiling at them, flirting with them, just so she doesn't have to anymore.

It's no use though. In the fourteen years she's been mentoring, no one's come home.

She's pretty much given up all hope. No one likes Nine anyway, they only like the victor.

It was Rosemary who was the Capitol's favourite.

She wished that she wasn't so pretty and innocent. The carefree girl with pretty brown hair and bright amber eyes, smiling away, never stops smiling. The light in her eyes have been gone for a long time now, and the smile is a string.

Rosemary is a _puppet_.

She wishes that her daughter and son won't suffer if she stops smiling, and stops falling, but she doesn't think she can stop. And she won't, because she doesn't know the consequences. With the Capitol, the consequences are usually deadly.

It would be ironic if she could cut the strings from her, but it's no use. What's a puppet without strings? And what's a puppeteer without a puppet?

"Kayla Nevius!"

A blonde girl smiles as she is reaped, and Rosemary studies her.

She, unlike everyone else, is happy to go to the games. She is pleased to send herself off to her own inevitable doom, to her own death.

Rosemary's never been so fascinated and weirded out at the same time.

She crunches her nose slightly, but then remembers to smile, feeling the imaginary strings tighten once more.

Sickle Rhoades is reaped as well. He glares at the crowd.

Rosemary is unsure of what to think. She just smiles, but then notices a sickly woman clutching onto a man, both sobbing, and she knows that the boy must be a mother's lifeline.

That reminds her of her own mother, who is still alive and caring, living a life of luxury that Rosemary provided for her.

She doesn't know what to do next.

The district is clapping after the reapings.

They are only clapping because they weren't handpicked to die by the district.

Rosemary smiles again (a winning trait, the thing the Capitol thinks is the most beautiful asset for her) and claps. She can get away with her treacherous thoughts now. This should let her get away with them again.

* * *

 _Sable Nox, 27_

 _VIctor of the Twelfth Hunger Games, District Ten Victor_

* * *

He hates Ten.

He hates how hot it is, he hates how the cattle smells, and he hates cow shit.

He just hates the way people are treated, the way people feel, and the way people live.

A bit of an antisocial trait, if you ask him, but he doesn't care. He's long gone in thought, in mind. All that's left is his body.

He's alone. No one sits beside him, not one person acknowledges him. In Ten, no one cares if you win, or who you kill, or how rich you are. They only care about getting by, and having enough food to feed their mouths.

He doesn't mind. It's a reasonable plan anyway.

He didn't get why he wanted to win in the first place anyway.

Oh fourteen year old Sable, if only you could see yourself now. He probably would've let the boy from Nine slit his throat and win.

The sun is beating down on him now, his nice new reaping day shirt is sweaty and sticking to his back. It's not worth it, he thinks, squinting out to the red rocks of the district's landscape. Buying a new shirt just for today was stupid.

He spaces out, almost sleeping in his chair, but is brought back to reality when there is a huge ruckus. He blearily looks up, his eyes blurry, but he can see a little girl beating the arms of a Peacekeeper…

Wait, what?

That's certainly new, but she's pathetic looking. She's small, probably whiny, but he rolls his eyes.

Oh dang it, that's the female he's getting? Just great. Just freaking great.

An angry looking eighteen year old is reaped, and Sable can see his best friend in him. Of course, Angus has been dead for nine years. He let his best friend die in the games. He's that kind of person.

 _Don't feel anything_ , he tells himself, steeling up his emotions.

The escort looks over at him, and he gives her a false smile. She grins so wide, happy that a victor paid attention to little ol' her.

"May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" she announces to the crowd.

 _Tatyana_ , he thinks briefly. That's her name again.

But, oh Tatyana, she doesn't know how wrong she is.

No matter who you are, the odds are _never_ in your favor.

* * *

 _Seeder Kaiser, 21_

 _Victor of the Twentieth Hunger Games, District Eleven Mentor_

* * *

She believes in a clean, healthy lifestyle.

When you live in a world as harsh as Panem, you can't just waste resources. It's rude and inconsiderate, especially when your district is the one that goes the hungriest.

Seeder feels uncomfortable as she sits in her chair.

She rubs her dark arms, biting her lips awkwardly, not caring about the cameras. She's a victor that people easily overlook, even though she is quite a recent one.

She doesn't hate it, she doesn't like to be in the spotlight. She tends to dwell in the background, where you can watch everything unfold.

Amartine is talking beside her happily, looking as beautiful as always.

Amartine is a good woman who just happens to have a jerk of a son. Seeder can't judge though, she's a killer. No matter how snobby Dayley, oh, wait, he likes to be called _Day_ , is, she can't talk at all. At least he doesn't have blood on his hands. Well, not officially.

Everyone knows the story of Thea Burton. Thea was two years older than her, and the prettiest and nicest girl in the district.

She was a star, bound for great things, and destined to do well. She was smart, beautiful, and kind. No one knew why she chose Dayley Stockholm out of all people, a mystery that died with her.

There's no doubt that whoever will be reaped will have a target on their back. President Lucia Starling is out for revenge, no doubt. A rich man from Eleven killing her husband, the man who created the games himself? The people from Eleven will be doomed to die in the games, whether they know it or not.

Seeder isn't happy with it, but she can't stop it. No one will take her seriously, not that she cares anyway. Her job is to try and mentor the tributes. Try and bring them home. That's her job, not caring, and not feeling remorse.

It's always hard to let go of the tributes, she always grows such a strong bond between herself and them. She would isolate herself after to take a time to grieve, but then she realized that it was unhealthy.

Seeder needed to _let go_.

So she vowed to herself that she will try, but won't get attached. Emotions are her downfall.

A girl named Blair Wild is reaped. She is strong, an obvious choice for the games. She might be another shot at a victor, but Seeder will never know.

She's just the mentor, after all.

But then, Amartine starts to sob, and Seeder looks over to her friend. She is sobbing into her hands, her blonde hair covering her face from any angle. Seeder rubs her back.

Dayley is reaped, and she can feel some sympathy for him.

She'll try not to get attached, because no matter how strong they are, the Capitol is always stronger.

* * *

 _Slatia Burnet, 35_

 _Victor of the Fifth Hunger Games, District Twelve Mentor_

* * *

Slatia looks out airliy, the world around her fading.

She wouldn't call herself _crazy_ , as crazy people don't know that they're crazy, but she would call herself _off kilter_.

She is the only victor of the most disgraced district of Panem.

The cost of winning was high, just like anything else that came from the Capitol. Her brother, her sweet, twelve year old brother Brooks was reaped alongside her. She lost her head when he lost his, literally, coming back to his facing decapitated. She saw her own brother die, and she's crazy now.

She doesn't take anything to help take her mind of the tragedies. She knows that morphling or alcohol will just worsen it. She just breezes through each year, gone from the world.

There's nothing to be proud of when you're a victor.

Slatia groggily rubs her eyes, and she can hear it again, see it again. Brooks screams from her help, and she reaches forward, almost saving him, but then-

He's gone. Her little twelve year old brother is dead.

She screams a shrill one, and everyone stares at her horrified. She doesn't notice it, just replaying the moment over and over and over again in her head.

She is thirty five now, but forever trapped in her fourteen year old mind.

Slatia wishes she was dead, everything would be easier if she was dead. She would be with her parents, with Brooks, and far, far away from Panem, no longer crazy.

But maybe her insanity is what makes her Slatia Burnet. Maybe that's what defines her, what creates her, what molds her. She wouldn't know. She only talks to herself.

The mayor, oh, such a nice man, looks over to her worriedly. She smiles slightly, but then her head hurts again. She bites her lip and rubs her temples, tears welling up in her eyes.

She's the laughingstock of the Capitol. Not only from the crappiest districts, but a crazy girl. She's not considered an alumni, just a mistake. A mistake that they decided would be best to torture by keeping alive.

She cries again on the stage, but most by now have decided to ignore her. Slatia wishes that she wasn't up on stage, where everyone could see. Alas, the Capitol hates her. Poor, poor, poor Slatia Burnet. A little girl who saw too much at a tender age. Now's she crazy.

Ashe Ellwood is reaped, and Slatia looks at her in alarm. The girl is much older that she was, but she can see the very makings of her, the same one of Slatia's. She bites her lip, and starts to weep more.

A guy named Shadow Tin joins Ashe. He was rumored to have killed his entire family. Slatia can sympathise, she killed her family too, by just being alive. She's pretty sure he'd be happier off dead, just like her.

Just like anyone.

In Twelve, they only clap because at least it's not them or one of theirs that is reaped.

In Panem, when a child is born, the mother cries louder than the child.

Slatia cries because she just wants to die.

* * *

 _Caligula Noman, 47_

 _Head Gamemaker_

* * *

He smirks as he watches the reapings.

His plan was in action. It was finally his time to shine, after months and months of careful planning.

He had his arena, and he had his tributes. Each lay in the palm of his hands, moldable and can even break like glass.

As long as he doesn't let a person from Eleven win, he's fine to live, and on Lucia's good book. He's been a gamemaker for thirteen years, and a head for two. Lucia wouldn't want to change to much of her husband's work, she adores him too much. Oh, well, _adored_.

He in his right mind did not pay a rich man in Eleven to pay a hitman to kill James Starling. No no no, James Starling was his puppeteer, the reason he was so rich and mighty. He loved James Starling, the very man who gave him power.

But now that James is gone… who else will be king? Who would sit in the golden throne of Panem, overlooking it with an iron fist? Oh, he loved James, but Caligula loved his power more. He loved controlling people, and their lives, and everything about them.

So Caligula will wait. He will wait for when he successfully completes the Quarter Quell, then he would poison Lucia and Emory. A simple, easy plan to get power.

The Capitol would vote, not Panem, and they would obviously choose him. His competition will be dead if they try. He'll be the only contender.

Of course, he could just marry Emory Starling and make himself the president, which would be just as fun. Emory, oh Emory, with her beautiful green eyes and innocent smile. So young, so ready to be his.

Lucia would be a problem, and maybe Emory would be too.

Anyone who tries to oppose him would be dead, no doubt.

Caligula will kill anyone who tries to go in his way, in the place he belonged.

No one is safe from the Capitol. The Hunger Games, dear James' tradition, makes sure of that. Lucia's Quarter Quell puts it into stone. Whether you're rich or poor, old or young, male or female, and beautiful or not, the Capitol will always watch you. Only the person Caligula decides is _fit_ to live, to bask themselves in glory, will win.

Lucia gave him a lot of new toys for this year, just to get interesting for the Quell. His gamemakers developed new _traps_ just for his tributes this year.

He laughs a hearty laugh, imagining the crown on his head.

One more year. He can complete this game, kill Lucia, take Emory away, and the golden crown on his head will give him everything he could possibly want.

Caligula was not a patient man, but for this plan to come into action, he will wait.

He always knew he was fit to be a king.

* * *

 **And we're done! This chapter was a whooping 8.5k words, with this author's note. Some victors you'll read here as canon, like Mags, Woof, and Seeder, but mostly the majority of the victors are made up. I really do hope this cleared up the reasons of why the tributes were reaped.**

 **Once again, if you hadn't already, please remember to tell me who you want to be allied with, because that's really really really important. The next chapter will be the train rides, which will once again showcase all of the districts, but in a different order. Maybe there'll be a parade prep after, but I'm not sure. As always, tell me what you think, and see you guys later! :)**

 _~Ata_


	15. Train Rides- We all fall down

_**Train Rides**_

 _We all fall down_

* * *

 _Platinum Worth, 22_

 _District One Male Tribute_

* * *

I soon realized that Anastasia Ripley has no intentions of talking to me.

She just closed herself off from me, her brown eyes sad and icy, if that's even possible. I have a feeling that she wouldn't want to be a Career, a deadly move from her. She's putting a target on her back, and I'm sure that the others won't be happy.

Tilver and Shimmer both join us immediately. "Drink?" Shimmer asks.

I nod, and she smiles, calling the bartender over to pour us some drinks. Tilver makes a feeble attempt of calling her over, and he curses under his breath when Anastasia reluctantly joins us.

Trixibella smiles broadly at Anastasia, cooing over her, and I roll my eyes. "She's not a baby," I snap.

Trixibella looks appalled at my rude tone, and I hear Shimmer and Tilver stifle a laugh. A smile forms to my face. They obviously like me more. It's not hard too, because of by the looks of it, Anastasia doesn't want to do anything with me, which means she doesn't want to be a Career, breaking an over decade old tradition. She'll be a disappointment in the Capitol for sure. It's like salt in a wound. She's already not a perfect One girl, and she's not a Career. She's screwed for sponsors.

He misses home as he sips his brandy. The Capitol obviously has the best stuff, as Tilver and Shimmer both drink. They politely grab some food, as do I and Anastasia. I nibble on a biscuit as they talk.

"So…" Shimmer says. "I take it that you both want to be trained separately?"

I look over to Anastasia, who nods eagerly. She's practically mute, not even saying a word. I groan, but nod as well. She's obviously going to be a burden.

Shimmer and Tilver seem to have a silent argument, maybe about who's mentoring who. Eventually, with an awkward, long stare off, Shimmer looks defeated as Tilver smirks. "Platinum, you're with me. Anastasia, go with Shimmer."

He slides beside me as the girls go off. "So Platinum, I take it that you've had experience with a weapon, right? What's your weapon of choice?"

I lay back, relaxing. "I'm good with pretty much everything, but I do love my sword."

Tilver smirks. "The sword was my thing too. Easy, light, a clean kill. Best way to get rid of pests."

I nod eagerly, a vicious smile spreading across my face. "Exactly."

"Well, obviously, the stupid girl is out for being a good old district partner, so you'll just have to stick with the Careers. The sponsors love a classic bad boy, that makes it more compelling for them. Just don't downplay how good you are, we all know that you can kill. Make that point across." Tilver is only a few years older than me, and has so much faith in me.

I smirk. "Well, obviously. I'm the next victor, obviously."

"Yes, you are. The competition? Squash them out, especially the outliers. The Capitol isn't too fond of Eleven right now, you might as well kill the pests."

A bloody image of me decapitating two people in the games, and the glory of it comes to me. I laugh. Their screams would just fuel me. "I'll give them a bloody show that they'll never forget." I smile sadistically.

Tilver and I laugh again, over our brandy. "Well, you need to check out everyone. Your allies, and your biggest threats."

"Done."

 _You've killed people. You don't deserve this luxury. Don't pretend to be happy, you don't deserve it. You don't deserve anything._

I shudder, but Tilver doesn't seem to notice. Maybe the alcohol's kicking, I don't know. I'm still angry, but now looking at stats, I've got a very good chance at winning. The Capitol won't know what's coming.

We move over to the couches, and turn the television on. As expected, only the recaps are playing.

I see my own reaction, relaxed, but I can see my anger. I remember how angry I was, only a few hours ago. I need to pretend to be happy. I am a Career after all.

"He's absolutely handsome!" one commentator, I think it's Titus Alverstone, gushes.

"A perfect model of what a Career is supposed to be, Titus," Yolande Weatherbee agrees.

"I'm so excited to see him in the games!"

The recaps go over to Two, and I lick my lips, wanting to see who my allies would be.

A girl, pretty short but deadly looking, is reaped, and I know that the district doesn't play around. She's very smart looking, probably agile, and she smiles at the crowds, captivating them. The commentators gush of how she's a model Career girl, and how fun she'll be to watch. She's the best girl from Two probably, going to deliver on her part. She's probably good with almost everything, being that she's their choice.

The boy is reaped, and is around four inches taller than me. He's obviously popular, many girls around him gushing over him, along with the commentators. He's muscular, and probably successful at the academy, and good at most things. Two doesn't mess around with who they pick. He winks at the crowd, and I can hear the commentators sigh and fan themselves.

"He's the one to beat," Tilver tells me. "You'll have to take him out somehow… the pair won't go down easily. Knowing Two, they're keeping the pair together, especially if they're the strongest Two has."

He rubs his temples, downing the glass, and waving an Avox over. "Get me a stronger one," he instructs the meek looking girl. She nods, quickly bringing him a glass filled with amber liquid. He sips it and smiles.

"Ah, much better. Anyway… this is why I have an easy and simple way to get rid of them. Of course, it would probably not be as sadistic, but it would still involve a lot of pain for them."

I lean forward, tracing the glass with my finger. "I'm in."

He grins. "Of course you would, I know people like you. It's simple, just don't let them know you've went to this station. It would make them aware of this, after all. It's quite simple, you just need to master it and remember it. Quite handy when I got rid of my partner."

"What is it?" I press. "This seems amazing, I just need to know what it is."

"It's poison, Platinum. You need to work with poison. That's the most efficient way to get rid of the competition."

"Inject it into their bloodstreams, and hear them die in pain. That's what I have to do, isn't it?"

"You got it."

A smile and a rush comes through my veins, and I laugh heartily, finally feeling happy.

We watch the reapings with a smile now, noting some important people, tributes I'll have to look out for, but I can hear their screams now.

Oh yes, it's getting much louder. Their pain will bring me joy, just like it did four years ago. When I do it, I'll only see the bastards that killed my family.

* * *

 _Alexis Penn, 18_

 _District Two Female Tribute_

* * *

"I can't play favourites Caydin. You're my best friend, but Alexis has just as much potential as you to win," I hear Phoebe snap at my partner.

My eyebrows furrow, and I sneak to Caydin's room to eavesdrop.

"That's not what I'm asking Phoebe, you know that I don't tolerate favouritism. I just want you to make sure that if I don't come back- _just look after her,_ okay?" he sounds broken, and I feel even more confused than before.

Does Caydin have a girlfriend at home that no one knows about? Is that why he was sad?

I can hear Phoebe move over to him, and I can hear her breath hitch. "Of course I will," she says softly. I can't believe this side of these people, and I can hear moving. I sprint over to my room, and close the door, rubbing over the promise ring.

I lay on my back, the bed comfortable and soft, and massage my head. What did they mean by that? Why do they have so much emotion? Don't they want to kill, aren't they _programmed_ to kill?

I can hear my door click open, and I roll over to face the visitor. It's Caydin.

"How much did you hear?" he asks, sitting down beside me.

My eyes snap open in alarm, but I manage to control my panic. "I didn't hear anything," I tell him, my voice even, hiding any sign that I'm lying, "I just am here to avoid Corinna. She's so annoying, I just want to strangle her to shut her up."

A faint smile traces Caydin's lips, and he lets out a chuckle. "Yeah, she's a pain in the arse. But seriously, I heard something move, and I assumed it was you because of the blur of white. You did well, though, I wouldn't have been able to catch you if it weren't for the vase."

I smile. "Drat it, that stupid vase. The academy taught me well, didn't it?"

His smile is huge. "Yeah, it did."

"Why was Phoebe so sad when you talked to her? She's a victor, she doesn't really show emotions. I just can't see her so-" I trail off, trying to find the correct words to describe her.

"Emotional?" he suggests.

I nod. "Yeah, emotional."

He shifts uncomfortably, if judging between telling me or not. I guess that he shouldn't, seeing that I AM his competition, his block before going home, but then he sighs, playing with something on his wrist. I zero in on that. It's a woven chain, with gold, black, and white strands. It's very pretty.

"You know how I didn't volunteer two years ago?" he asks.

I nod, remembering the time when Calvin Groundsmen volunteered when no one else did. The entire square was silent at the time, shocked that the prodigy wasn't going into the games. "Yeah. The entire district was upset that you weren't going in. They did get Phoebe though." I point out.

He sighs. "I didn't volunteer because- because of the light of my life. She's just so-"

He closes his eyes, juggling his emotions once more, and I can see that the golden boy isn't so golden after all. I pat him on the back, not knowing what else to do. This was his story to tell, not mines to interject on. "She's just so pure. She's adorable and smart and just a ray of sunshine. I knew that as soon as she entered the world when I was sixteen, that I was a goner."

I realize that he wasn't talking about a girl at home, or even a friend, but a little girl, most likely his little sister. I imagine Kayla now, and feel guilty. I haven't thought about her until now. "What's her name?" I whisper, my voice an octave above silent. "What's your little sister's name?"

He looks at me, and I can see the pain in his eyes, something he managed to hide at the reapings, But now… his emotions were free to be seen in the world, across the entire district if this was filmed. "Rhea," he finally mutters. "Her name is Rhea Ainsley Armon, and she's four years old. She's the reason I'm going to fight."

"Rhea…" I echo. "That's a pretty name. She must be beautiful."

"She is," he smiles. "She looks just like our mum."

I notice that he doesn't talk about his dad, but I don't breach the subject. That's a tale for another day, if he decides to open up to me after. I decide that he is being honest and truthful, not trying to manipulate me. I hope I am right.

"I'm in love, and I might die in three weeks," I blurt out.

He looks at me in shock. I feel like covering my hands over my mouth, but I steel myself up. _No_ , I tell myself. _It's only fair that you do the same_.

"His name is Hartley," I continue, ignoring his look of shock. "I met him three years ago, at the academy. He likes to make stuff, especially swords. His favourite colour is blue, because he says it's the colour of my eyes. His favourite food is roast beef. He really likes to swim, and he's always there for me. He loves me unconditionally, as do I, but I'm leaving him. I might die in the next few weeks, and I won't be able to see his beautiful green eyes one last time. I love him, but I chose this path over his unconditional love and support. I might _die_ and never see him again. But at the end, I chose my hard work over him, and I will try to win for him. I will because I love him. And I get why you feel so sad, and regretful, I just guess we're both-"

He crushes me into a hug, something I don't expect from the mighty Caydin Armon. Maybe this is really him, and everything else is a facade. If so, I don't mind this side. He feels like a big brother. I've always wanted one.

"Thank you," he whispers, and I hug him back.

"You opened up to me, it's only fair that I did for you as well," I reply, clutching onto him.

The mentors don't look for us. I guess they just assume we're studying on our own, but we aren't.

A thought suddenly strikes me, fear grasping my heart, icing it. "If it goes down to it, I want to die a painless death."

"What?" he looks at me shocked.

"You heard me. If it comes down to me and you, or just anything in general, I want to die with a clean kill. Clean and simple, no pain. I don't want to be humiliated if I die," I trudge forward, not backing down. I want to die in peace if I do, I don't want to die with pain.

"Alexis, you can't just ask me to kill you!" he says.

I look at him and laugh bitterly. "Promise me you'll do that for me. I'd do it for you. Just promise me- just please, please, please promise me that you'll do that. A clean, simple kill, I'll do the same for you. No humiliation, no drawn out death, just a stab and we're dead. Please, Caydin, I want you to-"

"I promise." He cuts me off, leaving me shocked.

"You- you will?" I look at him, my eyes wide, and I laugh and whoop. He laughs with me.

"You'll do it for me. I don't want a painful death. A clean, simple kill," he repeats.

"A clean simple kill," I affirm.

When we join the mentors, they don't blink an eye on how much we trust each other, or our huge smiles. We strategize, and as we do, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.

I'm free.

* * *

 _Ceemore Miller, 13_

 _District Three Male Tribute_

* * *

Ms. Wardong is bugging me, her annoying, nasally voice nagging and nagging me. Techa sighs, and follows me to my room, right before it closes, locking it.

"You think you're hopeless," she says bluntly.

I turn to stare at the victor, the only victor of Three, curiously. Up close, she doesn't look as tough, with her brown eyes staring softly at me. I laugh bitterly, playing with my rocks. "Wouldn't you?" I ask.

I slump across the headboard, tears forming in my eyes. I feel… _alone_. I am used to being alone, but this feeling, it makes me feel like no one is looking out for me, that no one cares.

She looks at me sadly. "You know, I was your age when I was reaped," she tells me. "I was thirteen, and even tinier than you. I think you have a chance Ceemore, you're smarter than you let on."

"They voted for me to die in the games," I whisper. "They wanted me to rot in the arena. Me- a thirteen year old. It's not an unfortunate situation, people had a choice in this."

She rubs her arms, sighing. "Yeah, but life's tough like that. It feels like the world hates you, like everything hates you. You feel awful already, and this is pounding down on you. I get it…" she takes a deep breath, running her hands through her hair. "I just feel like I'll feel the guilt even more if I don't help you go home. I was your age when I went in. I had a family, had people to go home to. I know you have it to."

I nod, the regrets flowing through me. I feel some tears run down my cheeks. I didn't say goodbye the way I could have, and should have done. I was angry and regretful, and that's the last they'll ever see of me. And Angela….

"I have a family at home. My mom and dad are inventors, my older brother's really good at sports and is decent at school. My little sister is five, she's really sweet, but really innocent. She doesn't get this." I start to cry now, remembering Angie's confusion when she was told I was going away forever. "She- she thought I was going to the movies. I- I told her I wasn't coming back. She was crying by the time I left. I just- I treated them so bad at my goodbyes."

She clutches me tightly, smelling like lavender, a scent rare in Three. "It's okay," she soothes. "That's your motivation, the reason you'll go home. To make amends."

I choke, crying into her shoulder, letting every single emotion I've bottle up ever go. I let go of everything I've been holding onto, breaking down.

"What happens if I die? Does dying- does dying hurt?" I ask.

Techna stares at me blankly, as she rubs my back soothingly. "It feels like everything's going away, like everything's colourless. Then, everything goes black. And you feel empty, and you're gone. Forever. Probably happier though, most of us wish we were dead." She addresses it openly, with a resigned tone. She sounds like she's given up, and when I look at her, she offers me a weak smile.

"Or, at least that's what people have told me," she smiles brightly, her previous mood gone.

"But- what do I do? What can I do? There are people much older than me going into these games, they probably know what to do and how to kill, I'm kind of a goner," I ramble.

She laughs, patting my head. "Have you ever heard of nightlock?" she asks.

I look at her in confusion, shaking my head no. "Okay then," she says, getting up. "Lavina!"

A blonde girl comes, dressed in red, looking at us resentfully. Techna just smiles at her. "Can you get me a tablet please?" she asks the girl.

She reluctantly nods, and retrieves the tablet. Even though we live in the technology district, I've never seen a tablet so technologically advanced. I want to see what it does. "Can I have one to, Lavina?" I ask.

She gives me a dirty look but comes back with one. Techna goes to the Hunger Games app and pulls up a picture.

I almost laugh at what Techna shows me. "Berries? Why do I need to scared of berries?"

Techna gives me a fake look of disdain. "The _berries_ are known as nightlock. They look super harmless, but they can kill you as soon as they swallow you."

"Okay," I say. "But what do you want me to do with it? _Oh_."

The thought comes to me. Light bulbs go off in my head, and I understand what Techna wants me to do with highly poisonous berries. "Do you want me to poison the tributes?" I ask suddenly.

Techna smirks and nods. "Assuming that the Careers will get to the Cornucopia first, you'll be defenseless. You're probably not going to be as fast as them, which is okay, but you'll need another line of defense. I suggest that you look for water first, I'll try to send you a purifier, but you'll need to boil the water before drinking it. Remember that. So I suggest you go to the fire building station for survival."

She gets up and stretches, then joins me again. "You asked me about death. Nightlock is a painless death, that'll stop the Careers from killing you painfully. If you want to kill, well, then, make sure that they're absolutely starving, then offer it to them."

Multiple possibilities go through my head. Techna's plan was genius. I couldn't see any flaws… except for one. "What about the Careers?"

Techna tilts her head to the side, confused. "What about the Careers?" she replies.

"I mean, could I try to kill them with nightlock?"

She frowns. "I highly doubt it, some of the Careers are very smart. Just make sure they're split before doing that, or else something _bad_ might happen to you."

"Okay," I say, my shoulders slumping. "I guess so."

"Anyway," she says, "I think you need to take a shower. Do you want me to show you how to use them?"

I nod, and we head to the fancy Capitol bathroom. She shows me which soaps are which, the temperatures, and the instant drying floor. The clothes she picks for me are laid on the sink counter, and I beam. I could get used to this.

The water is perfect, something rare in Three, and the soap smells good as I wash the grime and sweat off myself. As I step on the floor, a sensation of heat comes, and I'm dry. "Cool!" I exclaim to myself.

There's no need for a towel now.

I wear what Techna chose for me, then I join her at the dining table with Cable. Ms. Wardong is nowhere to be seen. "I locked her in her room with food just so she wouldn't bother you," Techna whispers, and I laugh.

We watch the recaps, surveying my competition, and the feeling of dread comes back. I now have no desire to finish my pumpkin soup, no matter how delicious it is, or my ribs, because the kids scare me.

There are two girls around my age, three old people, and the rest are at least two years older than me, in their prime time.

Fear washes over me, and I start to sweat.

Techna looks over at me worriedly, and I manage a weak smile.

 _You'll be fine_ , she mouths.

I relax a little, because I believe her.

* * *

 _Anemone Williams, 22_

 _District Four Female Tribute_

* * *

Mags is an annoying mentor. She's not even _looking_ at me, much less paying attention. I feel like stomping my foot down, maybe throw a tantrum, but I compose myself.

 _A future victor doesn't throw tantrums_.

Elias is just staring outside the window, reminiscing about _whatever the fuck_ , and I just groan. "We need to get mentored now," I remind her.

Salton looks at me. "Teal's daughter, right?"

I smirk and nod. He smiles brightly at me. "Well then, I'm mentoring you. Mags will be mentoring Elias, but we'll mostly strategize together. If that's okay with you, of course."

I beam and nod again. "Perfect," he says.

I note once again that Mags is avoiding me, and I make a slight face of disappointment. My mother and Salton brought Mags home, so Mags could do the same for me. Instead, she's avoiding me, and favouring Elias over me. I'm pretty sure that Salton's mentoring me because Mags didn't want to.

We eat at the table, with Avoxes coming to serve us. I order an expensive Capitol drink, because why the heck not. I am of legal age, of course.

My mouth waters over the filet mignon, my mother's favourite dish from when she was in the games, and take a lot of it. I do wish that Mom was mentoring me, not Mags. It would be much easier.

"So," Salton says. "You guys need some chemistry. You need to work together."

I laugh, because we have _plenty_ of chemistry. Elias winks at me, and I smile back at him. "We have plenty of chemistry," Elias chuckles.

I notice that he's back. Before was probably just a faze, nothing else. Mags laughs, and I look at her. "You certainly do," she replies.

"The girl from Two is hot," Elias comments as we watch the reapings.

I study her, she's certainly very pretty, around 5 foot 5, with pretty dark brown hair and blue eyes. She's going to be a worthy opponent, I bet.

"You guys always need to keep your eyes open for the pair from Two. They're always the deadliest," Mags tell us, her brown eyes very serious.

I roll my eyes, highly doubting it, but take her word for it. The male tribute soon comes on, and I lick my lips, because he's absolutely _handsome_. Tall and all muscles, definitely going to be fun. Blond with shiny golden eyes, very hot.

Oh yes. This is going to be great.

A middle aged woman who screams a lot is reaped from Three. I snort, probably a bloodbath. A little boy is also reaped, probably having the same fate as his partner's.

Five has a little girl who cries for her father. "Very touching," I sneer. Elias laughs with Salton and Mags offers a weak smile at my joke. An old man is also reaped. Six is nothing special, just elderly people.

Seven catches my eye. "Isn't that Anthony Feyr's daughter?" I ask. Mags frowns and Salton sighs, looking at the sad girl on screen. Another child of a victor won't be good for us.

"Yes, that's Willow Feyr. Eliminate her early on, she'll be a threat for sure. A victor's child must have something in her, just like there was something in her father that allowed him to survive." Mags nods to that, and Elias smiles again.

The girl from Eight makes me scoff. "She's gorgeous," Elias wolf whistles, and Salton gives him a high five. I roll my eyes along with Mags, and that brings me joy that she agreed with me for something.

She's decent, I guess, with caramel coloured hair and violet eyes, but I don't understand why Elias would point her out. "She's nothing special," I decide. "Not going to last a day in the arena."

Elias gives me an appalled, shocked look, and I ignore it. I seriously don't understand about what makes her so special.

Mags frowns at that statement. "No, I know her. She's the mayor's daughter, I recognize her from the times I went to Eight. She's pretty strong, very smart, and has a certain skill set. I can't remember what though…"

"You got to watch out for her," Salton adds suddenly. "I kind of remember something from your victory tour Mags… but I don't remember either."

"Ugh," I snap. Everyone looks at me in surprise. "Let's move on."

The boy is angry looking, and I move over him quickly. The pair from Nine is something special though, it's like the girl actually _gets_ the glory of being chosen for the games.

"Bloodbath," Elias announces. I look at him, and he shrugs, sipping some cider.

"You're absolutely right," Mags says. "She's too naïve, most likely. Going to get herself killed."

I shrug and the boy is reaped. He's good looking as well, and glares at the crowd. "He has some fire," Elias notes. I nod, agreeing with him.

Ten is nothing we need to watch out for. The little girl will probably die early on, but I note the boy. "He's very angry looking," I say. "Has guts, but a death wish most likely."

Eleven is where things get interesting from the outer districts. "The girl looks pretty strong, a good contestant," I comment as I chew on a croissant.

"She's probably very smart too, a survivor if anything," Elias adds on.

Our mentors' beams are huge now. "You guys are finally sounding like a team," Mags smiles.

"The boy looks dead on the inside," Elias jokes, and I laugh.

"Probably going to jump off the pedestal," I snicker. "Pretty pathetic, if you ask me."

"They're probably not going to last for long though," Salton says, dead serious. Elias and I sober up, looking at them weirdly. Both mentors look somber.

"What?" Elias asks.

"Yeah, what?" I repeat. They say nothing, just exchanging looks of worry.

"Nevermind," Mags quickly says, her eyes sad. "Let's move on to Twelve."

The girl from Twelve has nothing on any of us, which is not saying much. The boy however…

"The guy looks fucked up," Elias quips. "Like, he looks like he has some major problems. Maybe a murderer, that could be why he was reaped."

I nod, looking thoughtful.

Salton orders the Avoxes to get us each a glass of red wine. They return, with the glasses.

"To the games," he toasts.

"To the games," we repeat. I catch Elias' eye as we drink, and I know I'll have fun later. A giggle catches in my throat, and I give him a seductive look over. He smirks, his green eyes challenging.

Salton's words ring in my head. What did they mean by that?

* * *

 _Watt Emerson, 80_

 _District Five Male Tribute_

* * *

The poor little girl is sobbing, curled up on a sleek, leather couch. I sit beside her, patting her back soothingly, just like I did with Bina, Vida, and Spark when they were sad. Heather's light brown hair is tied back behind her ears, and I loosen the ponytail and gently comb through it, something the girls loved when they were alive.

Eventually, her sobs mute, and she stops shaking. She turns to me, looking tiny and fragile and weak, and gives me a weak smile. Her hazel eyes are bloodshot, and her rosy cheeks are streaked with tears. She looks defeated and sad. "Th- thank you," she manages.

I beam at her. "It's no problem Heather. Would you want to wash up before everyone joins us?"

She nods and heads to the bathroom to freshen up, and possibly get out of her clothes. I do the same, washing again to get the excess dirt off and wait outside Heather's room. She comes out a few minutes later, her brown hair neatly plaited behind her, and in a pretty pale pink dress. She looks much better.

She beams at me and plays with the pendant around her neck as she joins me, heading to the table to meet our mentors, Deena Foster and Magnet Dem. Deena gives Heather a pained, sad look, and Magnet looks worse for wear. I swallow hard. I hope that they're in top shape to make sure Heather will come home.

"Hello," Deena smiles, but it's strained. She looks incredibly sad, especially when she looks at Heather. "It's so nice to meet you Heather and Watt. Magnet and I are your mentors this year."

Heather beams at her. "It's so nice to meet you too. The train is great. Everything's so clean and pretty, I just can't believe how cool this place is," she gushes, and we all giggle.

I notice that Magnet is swirling around his whiskey, the contents mostly still inside. I thought he was a drunk. A good man, but a drunk. I bite my lip, as Heather takes a cupcake and bites into it, melting at how good it was.

"Is it good?" I ask, and Heather nods, her face full of icing. The escort, Paulie, looks horrified at it, but Deena giggles and tosses her a silk napkin, and she wipes it off.

"Sorry," she tells Paulie, giving him a big smile, and he relaxes, smiling at the girl. Heather seems very sweet, her happiness and joy not like she was before. I reach for a cupcake and wink at her, making her giggle, and bite into it. The cupcake tastes like lemons, something that was easier to find and buy before Panem. It's sweet yet tart, but all delicious.

Heather grabs another one and takes a bite, and I give her a mock frown. She looks at me innocently before finishing the pink cupcake.

"The cupcakes are really delicious," Deena comments. "I've always had a few when I'm in the Capitol. They produce some of the best sweets."

"They taste just like Finch's back at home," Heather says. "I always go there with my dad. He really likes that place. It's been the first place he's took my mum for a date."

I smile knowing that Heather is still carefree about the situation. Deena smiles too. "I have a little girl named Nina at home. I think you'd do really well with her."

Heather's eyes light up. "I love babies!" she squeals.

Magnet manages to snap out of his trance in time to hear her squeal, and he looks at the girl, confused. He then realizes what we're talking about and then smiles as well. "Nina is around two. She's absolutely beautiful and loves the colour pink. I think you could teach her a thing or two," he beams at Heather.

Paulie smiles, looking a tad bit creepy, but I know that his sentiment is there. "The victor's babies are always adorable," he agrees. "Just look at how Teal's daughter turned out! She's gorgeous! And Woof from Eight's son is very handsome for his age. Rosemary's children are absolutely beautiful as well…"

He trails off into a ramble about victors, and we politely listen, just to hear what Paulie has to say. Eventually, Magnet 'accidently' coughs, interrupting the Capitolite. "Oh! Bless you," Paulie says. "Um, what were we talking about?"

"Just the cupcakes," Deena smiles. Heather nods, even though she looked quite interested in what Paulie had to say about the victors and their children, and I affirm it.

Paulie nods. "Oh yes, these are from President Lucia's private bakers themselves! Always a favourite of the tributes, everyone tries at least one and adores them. I myself like the confetti one, all of the colours and sprinkles are absolutely delicious. The red velvet one is good too, and I so happen to like the chocolate ones."

We all nod, and Deena cuts Heather off of the cupcakes. "You'll be bouncing around all over the place!" she exclaims.

"Yeah kid, we don't want to have to calm you down," Magnet jokes, ruffling the girl's braid. She pretends to huff, but then smiles. "You'll get to have more when you go to the Capitol, anyway."

I nod, and looking at Heather, I know that I will have to try and bring her home.

She doesn't deserve to do into the games, she's young and sweet and carefree. I will try to bring her home to her awful, corrupt father, because I know she'll be happier there.

She reminds me too much of my girls.

* * *

 _Shannon Farley, 84_

 _District Six Female Tribute_

* * *

It's very clear to me that Kirk has no interest in mentoring us.

"I don't want to hurt or kill anyone," I state immediately on the train, as it starts to move away from my home. I look out the window one last time, because I'll never see my home again.

"Neither do I," Ford agrees. "I can't deal with the thought of hurting anyone."

Kirk groans, grabbing a drink then moving off to his room. Vanity goes with him, probably to do who knows what, and locks the doors.

"Well," I wince, "that's Kirk Casey everyone."

"Yeah, I thought he'd actually try to help us out. I guess he doesn't intend on doing anything with us," Ford sighs, sitting down in the chair. He winces in pain. "Ah, my back."

"Tell me about it," I manage to smile. "Us old people should be given a break with all the joint problems we have."

I sit down beside him, managing to rest my muscles, and sigh. Everything feels better now.

"How do you feel?" I ask my long time friend softly.

He looks off into the distance, his chocolate brown eyes filled with pain. He slumps, twisting something on his finger. With a start, I realize it's his wedding ring. "I just can't believe they chose me, I don't think I did anything to warrant that."

I sigh, looking at him sadly. "Look at us, Ford. We're old, with more life lived than anyone else in the district. We've seen so much more, so much we've experienced, so much love we had to give."

"I just don't know why they chose me out of all people."

"I think it's because we had enough time in this world. We've had a long life, Ford," I answer, giving him a sad smile.

He wipes his eyes, as tears form in them, and sighs, playing with his ring. "I just wish I could spend my last days with Kiva," he finally whispers.

The fleeting memories of Lucian come into my mind, and I too start to cry. His warm brown eyes come to me, and his hand reaches to brush a strand of my hair back. I feel like I'm sixteen again, young and carefree.

"You- you see?" he asks. "We just can't live without them."

"But we have to live for them," I reply.

* * *

 _Leer Golder, 18_

 _District Seven Male Tribute_

* * *

Anthony Feyr is staring at his daughter with a sad look in his eyes. I close my eyes tightly. It reminds me of my own father, who was silent but strong.

Willow is staring at her father desperately, and I once again think about how unfair life is. Anthony Feyr would have to mentor his own daughter, and possibly watch her die. I can't even begin to imagine how hard that will be for him. And Willow, who was voted for the very reason that her father is alive, because of her immense wealth and status. But now that I think about it, she never really had a status to begin with. Like me, she's alone in this world.

We all don't talk, the silence stifling. I don't talk, because I don't do well in most types, and I don't have anything to say. Willow doesn't say anything. I have a feeling that she's very closed off and antisocial. It's probably the district's fault that she's like that. Anthony closes his eyes tightly and Birch pats his former mentor on the back.

I almost sigh. This is going to be a long ride.

The escort, Flavio, is chatting on his device with someone in the Capitol, complaining about how we're getting nothing done. I almost snap at him, but decide not to. It's been a long day.

"I guess we should do something," Birch finally says.

Anthony nods mutely, and Willow does as well. I think it's eerie with how much they look like one another.

We eat in silence, the entire time stifling. Looking at the food makes me angry, however. My brothers won't be getting the same amount of food as we get right now, and they might go hungry because they don't have an extra paycheck.

We don't even eat most of it. "Are we going to save the leftovers for when we're in the Capitol?" I ask.

Flavio snorts. "No, why would we do that?" he asks in his ridiculous Capitol accent. "We'll just throw it away. It's not big deal."

"No big deal!" I seeth. "My family is probably going to be hungry back at home, and we're just going to waste a lot of food! There are people out there that go hungry. This- this is disgusting."

"Leer," Birch warns, his brown eyes wide.

"No," I snap. "This is fucking messed up. People are starving. The entire ordeal is unfair."

Flavio rolls his eyes as I stalk to my room. I slam the door and kick it, and find a vase and smash it. I curl up on my bed and cry and cry and cry.

I think about my strong father, who held the roof for us when Mom died. I think about my little brothers, still young and growing. They won't get to ever try the fancy Capitol food I just did. They won't even have a taste of any of it.

I just hope that if I'm gone, they will still be well fed. I just want to make sure that they're okay, that they're not going hungry. I have a feeling Evergreen is going to try and make things difficult for them.

I put my face in my hands. It's all my fault. It's all my fault.

If only I didn't go through that stupid bastard's land, then we wouldn't be here. My family would still be provided for, and I wouldn't be so mad.

No one tries to come in and talk to me. I'm okay with it though. I don't feel like talking to any of them. None of them had to work endlessly just to make sure their loved ones were fed. None of them have felt like they never had enough food. None of them have starved.

I accidentally step on some of the broken glasses, and I ask the Avox if he could clean it up. He nods, and I go to the bathroom to disinfect my bloody foot.

I stare at myself in the mirror.

I look hollow and not like myself. I look…

 _Broken_.

Anger wells inside of me. I shouldn't look broken. I shouldn't be sad. I should fight for my family, so that when I come home, they'll always have food on the table.

The Capitol shouldn't be the one to break me.

* * *

 _Harper Regalia, 20_

 _District Eight Female Tribute_

* * *

Paige is singing a song, humming and covering her ears. I look at her, not knowing what to do. Normally, with Capitol guests, I would be taking them to the guest rooms to lie them down, but she's not a Capitol guest. She's a victor, one that's even younger than me.

"Does she always do this?" Noah asks. I notice that he doesn't seem as snappy as before, and I smile. That would make it much easier for me.

Woof nods sadly, and places an arm around the girl. "I'll take her to bed," he says, before leaving with her.

Noah and I are left alone, and I analyze him. He certainly seems more relaxed than before, and even gives me a brief smile. I smile back, uncertain of what else to do. "Hello," I say softly.

He nods. "Hi."

Woof comes back and sits us down on the couch, giving us each a mug of hot cocoa. I blow on mine and sip it, while Noah looks at it, confused. "What is this?" he asks. He licks a bit of the whipped cream, and takes a bit more.

"It's hot cocoa," I say. He gives a resigned look before sipping the hot cocoa, and downs the entire glass. I look at him, shocked that he did that. If I was to do that, I would've burned my throat.

Woof nods. "So, who wants to live?" he asks.

I give him a funny look, as does Noah, and he shrugs. "It's a valid question, I need to know if you want to actually try, so I can put effort into you."

"I would like to live," I say.

"I would too," Noah says, giving me a funny look. I don't know why he did that, but it makes me feel uncomfortable, as if he was taunting me.

"Good," he nods. "So, what are your strengths?"

"I'm quiet and with sleuth," Noah says. "I think I'd be good with blades too."

Woof nods. "Alright. Harper?"

I bite my lip, unsure of if I should tell Noah about my talent with aim, or more specifically, knives. Woof gives me an encouraging look, and I decide to. He'll know about it sooner or later. "I'm good with knives," I force out. "I can hit any target without looking at it."

Noah gives me an angry look, as if I just _had_ to one up him. It gives me a bad feeling. I just don't want to make anyone mad, but of course I had to. Stupid, stupid me.

"Good, good," Woof grins. "Allies are very important. Maybe we could watch the recaps and see who your potential allies are-"

"I want to join the Careers," Noah blurts. I look over at him confused. Not to sound rude or anything, but I highly doubt that the Careers would want any of us, as they most likely have a very strong group of six people.

Woof gives him an uneasy look. "Maybe we could try and aim for that, but that most likely won't happen. Careers don't like the outer districts."

Noah gives me another glare, as if it was _all_ my fault, and I look down, biting my lip. I wouldn't mind joining the Careers, but I doubt they'd want me. I'm not exactly _Career_ material. "Um, maybe the girl from Eleven? She looks like she'd be a good ally."

Woof gives me a wince. "No dice. The Capitol isn't happy with Eleven as of the moment."

"Twelve?" I ask.

"I wouldn't suggest it," he replies.

"Seven?" I persist. He then gives me another shake of his head, and I sigh, frustrated.

"You're the fucking mayor's daughter, you could have any person you want as your ally," Noah finally snaps, giving me a seething glare.

"Well, maybe if you were _actually_ likable, you'd have anyone you wanted as well! Hell, you'd even be with the Careers!" I scream. I immediately cover my mouth. _You don't know how to keep your mouth shut_.

My resolves break, as does my heart. Woof gives me a pitiful glance, but says nothing, and I feel like crying. I stand up from the couch and dust myself off, holding in my tears. "I'm sorry," I blubber. "I'll just be in my room."

I run to my room, and fall to the floor. Tears wrack my body, and I shake. My nice district made dress is covered in my tears.

 _Idiot, idiot, idiot_.

They still see me as the district brat, no matter where I go.

What would my mother say at my outburst? She would be so mad, so unhappy with what I just did, at my snap.

"Your only job is to smile," I hiss at myself, slapping my forehead. "Nothing else, you're just useless, a pretty prop. Nothing else. Just smile, just smile, just smile."

I collapse on my bed, and curl into a tight ball. "You're worthless if you don't do that, it's your only purpose. The pretty mayor's daughter, nothing else. They only see you as an object. Your only job is to make sure they're happy. Nothing else, nothing else, nothing else."

I repeat every single one of my mother's words to me, to keep me in check. It's the only thing I know how to do. I only pretend to be perfect, but I'm not. _No one would love you as you really are_.

You are not perfect, I tell myself. But you are stronger than that, you must be. If not, you're dead, and a corpse six feet under.

"Why are you always with me Mother?" I cry out, seeing the faint scars on my arms from when the kids beat me up years ago. "Why do you never leave me? Please, I just want to be left alone!"

"Harper?" I tremble as I turn around, hoping it's not Noah. It's Woof, and I dust myself off and try to make myself look presentable. I smile brightly.

"Oh hi Woof," I say, my voice not wavering at all. I hope he didn't see that, he'll just pity me. I don't want to be pitied.

He sits down beside me. "You okay?"

I bite my lip and look down. _No, no I'm not. I'm going to die. My mother's haunting me. I have scars from each time someone puts me down. I am weak._ "Yes, I'm okay," I smile. He gives me a questioning look, doubting me, but my resolve doesn't waver. I am the mayor's daughter after all, I need to always pretend to be happy. "No, Woof, seriously, I'm fine."

He looks at me sadly, then gets up defeated. " _You just remind me so much of Paige,"_ he murmurs. I catch it, and look down again.

"I'll join you guys soon, just give me time to freshen up," I call. I get up, and check myself in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot from crying, and I frown, splashing my face with cool water. I use some of the Capitol eyedrops to get the bloodshot away, something my mother always uses, and look at my dress. I almost cry again. It's ruined.

I reluctantly get out of it, and pick out a soft lavender summer dress. I put it on and re do my braid. _You'd be happy now Mother_ , I think. Everything I used is Capitol made.

I need to get over my mother. I need to be stronger. And I will.

After all, it's a life or death situation.

* * *

 _Sickle Rhoades, 19_

 _District Nine Male Tribute_

* * *

Kayla annoys the hell out of me. When Rosemary came in, she squeals, covering her mouth.

"Oh my god! I can't believe I finally am meeting Rosemary Thyme! I'm such a huge fan!" she gushes, gasping as she jumps up and down.

Rosemary gives her a smile. "It's nice to meet you as well, Kayla, and Sickle. We have a lot to discuss, as we do have a three hour train ride ahead of us. Would you like to join me in the parlour?"

Kayla nods excitedly, and I shrug. I want to see where my room is, but I guess I'll join them. What the hell, I'm going to die anyway.

The parlour is a clean, nice room. Rosemary beams at Syrio, who in turn gushes (what is it with people and gushing?) over her outfit. "How is your daughter, Rose? She is so adorable."

Rosemary laughs a nervous one, biting her lips gently before nervously smiling. "She's amazing right now Syrio, how is your sister Tatyana?" I notice that Rosemary smiles a lot, something quite unusual if you ask me, but I brush it aside. The Games have a weird effect on certain people, I guess.

"She's amazing. Taty is the Ten escort, it's her fifth year! I'm _soooo_ excited for her, we have to watch the recap later!" my head spins with how excited the two people in the compartment are. The only person who is not so excited is Rosemary.

Kayla grins. "I've always loved the games, Syrio. Rosemary. I'm so excited to meet all of the tributes, they all must be phenomenal! Tell me, Rosemary, how was it that you thought of tricking the people into falling into the abyss. And who you suggest as an ally?"

"Well, you have to work with what you have," Rosemary bites her lip. "I just saw that there. When tributes came after me, with the intent to kill, I would sidestep over. The abyss would have them falling into a painless death. They couldn't stop, the momentum wouldn't allow them to. Even if they tried, they would still topple over. As for the allies," she swipes her hand over the tablet on the side, staring at the lists on the Capitol, "I suggest that you watch them during training and see who would help you out."

Kayla nods. "That's amazing advice Rosemary! You've always been my favourite victor, I always loved you."

Syrio smiles brightly, interjecting into the conversation. "Rosie here is an amazing and smart mentor, the best victor I've ever seen beside Aeneas. But who doesn't love Aeneas! I think that people also need to _dress_ the part of a good tribute. Us here, we love a well-dressed person. That's why we have clothes here for you!" He looks at me distastefully, giving me a disgusted one over. "Maybe _you_ should change out of your rags, your stylists have prepared the clothes for you in your room."

I snort, giving him the evil eye. "Why are you even trying? We're all going to die anyway, the Careers will most likely be top-notch! You can't dress me up to die."

Syrio crunches his nose, Kayla gapes at me, but Rosemary gives me a curious look. I don't interpret it further, as I storm out of the parlour and into my room. I close the door, kick off my shoes, and lie into the bed.

It's soft, not like anything you could get in Nine no matter how wealthy you are, and as I stare up at the ceiling, I wonder what Dmitria is doing back at home.

If only I didn't get reaped… oh I wonder if she felt the same way I did for me. I would have loved to marry her, have a life with her, but it's gone now. I'm dying in two weeks, that's almost a guarantee, and Dmitria will never know how I feel, and I will never know if she felt the same for me.

A little part of me hope to win the games and sweep her off her feet, but I brush it aside. I'm going to die. There's no hope.

And with that, I manage to slip into a troubled sleep, but as I float off to the land far away from my current troubled life, I see what could be with Dmitria. My mother being all well, and my father serving her pound cake . Ah, hopes and dreams will be the death of me, I know that I must put my head in the game.

A sharp knock wakes me up. I look around blearily and Rosemary's sharp voice wakes me fully. "You know, we're in the Capitol now." I feel something soft getting tossed over at me. I look at it, and it's clothes. I say thanks and get changed as she looks at the door. I know that I am still angry, but my clothes are rumpled and a bit ripped.

"Come on," she whispers. I follow.

The windows show a sleek, silver city, and I gasp. It's beautiful. The doors open up to cheering and adoring Capitolites. Kayla beams and waves at them. Syrio smirks at the crowd, clearly loving the fame. I turn to her.

"What do I do?" I ask Rosemary.

She gives me a pained look, before turning her attention back to the crowd. "Just smile, the Capitol loves to see it." Her voice cracks, but she covers it up with a gorgeous, full on beam.

I follow her instructions, still not getting the hidden meaning behind it. The cheers get louder.

The Capitolites eat it all up.

* * *

 _Leona Allerton, 13_

 _District Ten Female Tribute_

* * *

The mentor is glaring hatefully at the window out.

The train is going faster than I've ever seen, and I bite my lip nervously. My district partner is silent, brooding even, and I just can't help but wonder what's on his mind.

I don't like this however. The silence is stiffening, and I just want to be back home with Ambrosia and Gizelle and Hawk. I want to see my dad again, I want to be in my tree. Alas, I'm in a train with two people that just seem so _mean_ and _hateful_.

The negative energy gets to me. "Wh- wha- what are we- we go- going to d- do?" I stutter nervously. The vibes I get from them is causing me to become nervous. Sweat trickles down my shivering body. The train is very cold, a huge contrast to the boiling hot Ten.

Dennis shrugs, staring off, but Sable looks at me gruffly. "I don't care. Do whatever kid, just stay out of my way."

Tears of frustration well up in my eyes. Sable turns to Dennis appraisingly, curiously even. "Do you want to go to the bar and get a drink? You're eighteen, right?"

Dennis nods, getting up mutely and heading to the bar. They leave me alone, with my thoughts and fears and my emptiness. "You shouldn't be here all alone," a soft but still accented voice says. "They should be here with you. You're just a little girl after all."

I turn quickly, almost falling off my chair. The tanned hands catch me, and I look at her fearfully. "I- I'm s- so- sorry," I manage.

Tatyana Idum is one of the most 'normal' escorts. Her hair is curly and long and red, which must be a Capitol trend right now, but she has cat like ember eyes. She is unnaturally tanned, but I am grateful that she is allowing me to be alone. "It's alright darling, it's okay. You did nothing wrong, I just scared you."

I nod mutely, silent big, fat, ugly tears running down my face. "What's wrong Leona? Are you okay?"

I nod quickly. "I'm so sorry," I sob. "I just want to go home, I want to be with my daddy. Please, I don't want to die, I don't want to die."

She wraps her arms around me, stroking my hair soothingly. "You'll be okay honey, I'll make sure people will sponsors you so you could go home. People love me, I'll be sure to see that you will see your daddy again," her accent makes me feel better for some weird reason, but all I can do is sob into her fancy Capitol dress, most likely ruining it. She doesn't seem to mind though, as I can hear no sounds of disgust from her.

I calm down, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry," I mutter. "I ruined your dress."

She laughs. "No, it's fine Leona! Really, I have another one in my room. I'll just get changed. Let's get some tea, I'll show you which one's my favourite. My mother used to make it for my brother Syrio and me for when we were sad or sick."

She makes a honey lemon tea for us, and slides in in front of me, producing a few cookies as well. I smile at her in thanks. "What are your friends like back at home?" she asks when I sip the tea.

I smile at the memories of my friends. "Hawk was my first ever friend. Our dads are both really rich, so we'd hang out a lot. He used to get in trouble _all_ the time before we met Ambrosia and Gizelle. Gizelle's the oldest, she's really pretty and tall. She's super loud as well, but in a good way. I met Ambrosia at the jewelry store when my dad was getting me my locket." I showed her it, and she gushed.

"It's absolutely gorgeous," she coos.

I grin. "I loved it. We've been a group ever since."

"You're going to be loved by everyone Leona, I can see it. Would you like me to do your hair? My mother was a stylist so she showed me how to do some _beautiful_ interview worthy hairstyles. I can also choose a new outfit for you, I'm sure you'll love it."

"Sure!" I exclaim. "But only if you let me choose yours!"

"Deal," she smiles.

We laugh and share memories about our life and other things. My hair is now in a braid, because my hair was short, and I am wearing a lovely beige dress. Tatyana, even though she's a Capitol person, makes me feel better, like I have someone to guide me through.

I feel like I made a new friend.

* * *

 _Day Stockholm, 23_

 _District Eleven Male Tribute_

* * *

"No alcohol" is the first thing Seeder says to me when I board the train. I freeze, staring at her wide eyed. The effects of the whiskey I drank was starting to wear off. I can feel Thea's presence again, haunting and taunting me.

"But-" I open my mouth to protest. Seeder gives me a look that says _zip it_ , and I clasp my mouth shut. I won't say anymore.

Blair scoffs in disgust with me, and I feel my heart sinking even lower. I can tell that she hates me, but hey. Over half of the district does as well. Seeder gives me a look of disgust as I puke on the shiny floor, and she edges away from it and me. Blair groans and sneers at me, asking an Avox politely if he could clean it up. Given that he has no choice, he cleans up the puke. When the escort Veridie comes in, he shrieks from the smell.

"Ugh, what died in here?" he complains, plugging his nose. He notices that _I_ am the one standing in the puddle of puke and sends me a filthy glare before marching out. Seeder and Blair soon follow.

Only the Avox and I remain. He gives me a sympathetic look, as if to say that it's not my fault, but I don't buy it. I think it's my fault. Thea is dead. I am alive. I am going into the place she died in.

For a brief, fluttering moment, I think about jumping off of the pedestals when I have a chance. I shake it off. Suicide is just an insult to Thea's memory, I will try to fight for her. I swear it.

So when the Avox gives me a bottle of beer or whiskey or just anything alcoholic, I shake him off. "No thank you," I say.

I head to the television, asking if I could have a glass of orange juice, and turn it on. The Avox also gives me a case of all the previous games. I watch all of them, the chariot rides, the interviews, the scores, the actual games, but I don't watch Thea's.

My hand moves quickly across the page, taking notes. I offer for the Avox to sit beside me; he declines but a sad shake of his head. I realise that I would get him in more trouble if he did join me. I retract it with a sad, "I'm sorry." He reassures me that it's not my fault.

My inspiration is running high, sweat trickles down my brow. I am concentrated, and even though the blood disgusts me, I try to withstand it.

The arena will be much more bloody, and if I can't stand in on television, I would never be able to be around it in real life. Thea would want me to win. I will try for her.

* * *

 _Ashe Ellwood, 20_

 _District Twelve Female Tribute_

* * *

I have never felt so alone. Generally, growing up in a large family with too many mouths to feed, I never feel isolated. Wherever I am, I always had someone with me, whether it be my siblings or Annette. But now… I can't talk to the people. Slatia freaks me out, she just seems so _quiet_ , so gone from the world. Leto is looking at us nervously or in fear, and Shadow is trying to converse with Leto. I don't know how to talk to new people generally, even when my life is on the line.

My hands are clammy. I feel uncomfortable, like I shouldn't be here. _Because you shouldn't. You're twenty years old, too old for the Hunger Games. The district's just really mean_.

My doubts about everyone just grow even more because of why I was reaped. I don't get it, why me? I never did anything to warrant it.

Shadow and Leto are having a good laugh, but I can't approach them or join in. I feel… _frozen_. Like I don't belong. I can't move, and not like I want to, because I know that I won't be able to talk to them, no matter how hard I try. I don't go closer to Slatia, because she's silently screaming out. Cold sweat trickles down my forehead.

What do I do? Is she okay? What the hell is wrong with her? A million questions fly through my brain, and I don't know how to act on it. I just shuffle further from her, from everyone, and onto the couch so I can think.

I just want to be with my family. I want to help plan the date of Flint's toasting, and tease Pele about the apothecary shop boy. I want to run around in the districts, or hell, even be down in the mines. Anywhere but here.

Cold, unsettling fear claws my heart, not letting me go. It grasps onto me, my entire being, and controls me. I don't want to die. I don't want to kill.

I look over at Slatia one more time. Is that what happens when you win? Do you become a shell of your former self, of what you used to be? I've heard that when Slatia was younger, much younger, she was happy and carefree. But now… she's insane, I think. Totally gone from Panem, from this world, from the universe.

When will the Capitol finally let her have peace?

I don't want to become that, but I don't want to die and be forgotten. I don't know what I want, but hell, I don't know a lot anymore.

But maybe, not knowing anything is the best thing I can do.

* * *

 **Oh gods this took quite long! This chapter alone was 10, 925 words, plus my author's note. This took really long because school has started again (boo) and I have a lot of activities outside. I'm pretty exhausted from writing this as well, but hey, it's out! I hope you guys were satisfied with this chapter, I promise that most of these guys aren't always downers (given the circumstance, I would be too). This is also the most wordy chapter I've given you so far, and I'm not sure if it stay the longest for long! :)**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter a lot, because next is the Chariot Rides! I'll be doing the things, like chariot rides and private sessions in a given person's point of view, but not the tributes. The Chariot Rides will be from Emory Starling's perspective. Until next time guys! You guys are all amazing!**

 _~Ata_


	16. Chariot Parade- Just Short of Perfection

**IT'S FINALLY HERE! PRESENTING THE LOVELY TRIBUTES FOR THE TWENTY FIFTH HUNGER GAMES!**

 **LIVE FROM GAMEMAKER CIRCLE!**

 **WITH YOUR HOSTS AUGUSTUS SILVERMOON, TITUS ALVERSTONE, AND YOLANDE WEATHERBEE!**

 **PLEASE JOIN US WITH WELCOMING OUR TRIBUTES!**

* * *

 _ **Chariot Parade**_

 _Just Short of Perfection_

* * *

 _Emory Starling, 18_

 _The President's Daughter_

* * *

"This better be perfect, Caligula," her mother growled at the Head Gamemaker. He looks at her fearfully. "I don't want James' memory to be tainted with a god awful parade. You know the consequences if you don't succeed."

Her icy blue eyes are narrowed. The Head Gamemaker Caligula Noman squeaks. "Oh course Lucia! Everything will be perfect for you, I have no doubt about that. I will be sure to tell the crew to do well tonight. The entire country of Panem must see our glory!"

Emory stares out at the empty square, lined with adoring Capitol fans. There are some signs rooting for certain tributes, but most of all, she is disgusted with herself and her mother.

This is messed up. Emory's seen the tributes. Some shouldn't be here, they are too old and too kind for this. She bites her lip, smoothing out her silver dress, and playing with a loose ringlet from her braid. Caligula gives her a disgusting look, and she makes a face. The camera turns to her, the president's daughter, and she beams, surveying the crowd below.

A reporter comes to her, and she gives her most beautiful smile ever, one she uses every time she crowns the victor. "Ms. Starling! You are looking absolutely beautiful today! How are you today?" The man has purple hair, almost as purple as his face. She is deep down disgusted by the multi-coloured people of the Capitol, but she won't show it. It's too dangerous for anyone to know what she thinks.

Emory nods, her smile widening for the camera. She laughs, but is grossed out by herself. "I am _so_ excited for today! The tributes are absolutely amazing this year, I am so happy about the tributes! I can't wait to see them in their amazing costumes, I know _all_ of the stylists personally and they are all amazing."

The reporter seems pleased, and he leaves her alone. "I'm so glad to have some of your time Ms. Starling, I will be seeing you soon. Have fun!"

She beams and winks at the camera, and after it's gone, she sighs heavily. Her earbuds are in, with the commentators start their input. She takes it out, putting it on her lap, and listens in on her mother and Caligula's conversation.

"I expect you to be at full attention to these tributes for the next few days. I want the games to be perfect. One mark lower, I'm not going to be happy about that." She looks scathingly at the Gamemaker, and Emory can feel the chill from there. Caligula shivers, and her mother smirks, relaxing on the golden throne her father created when she was younger, her platinum circlet resting comfortably on her golden head.

Emory thinks her mother looks like a queen, haughty and so high up, calculating. She knows that she is the little princess, so gullible, moldable, and breakable. She is trapped, and she tries to get comfortable in her chair. Caligula takes a seat next to her mother, and gives her another disgusting look. Emory is horrified. She doesn't trust the gamemaker, he has his own motives even though he acts scared in front of her mother.

The anthem starts to play, and Emory's soft, delicate hands rest on the golden carved rail of the President's balcony in anticipation. Her breath hitches, and she bites her lip. "I hope it will be good," her mother says faintly behind her. "You do know, Caligula, I am not as easily impressed as my husband."

Caligula gulped.

As a child, Emory had always watched the tributes come down the square. It was a thing she would do each and every time, always on the edge of her seat, staring out. When she was younger, she would sit on her father's lap as he would tell her what great things she would do as a president. She would gush over the costumes, the tributes, and think that they are spectacular. But now…. She still does the same. She still watches everything now, but _no_ , she doesn't admire them. She just hopes that they will not die painfully, and that they will be okay. She knows that they won't.

So, when her mother _finally_ passes the presidency off to her, she will end the games once and for all, even though she has no interest in running a country. Perhaps her husband, who will be tall, handsome, kind, and brave, will become president and end them for her. She only hopes.

She puts her buds in, knowing that now no cameras should focus on her, as she hears the tell tale clops of the horses. She gasps at how beautiful the outfits are, and is blown away.

The white horses of one are dressed in metallics, with elegant golden details on their saddles. The tributes they take, however, are even more stunning. The stylists have certainly outdone themselves this year for the very first Quarter Quell. Emory is amazed of how beautiful they are. The girl, Anastasia, was dressed like a goddess, her bronze dress resembling an ancient Greek chiton, fashionably woven with soft silks and tulle. Her flowing auburn hair is woven into an intricate braid with bronze ribbons weaving into them, a golden laurel wreath wrapping around her head. Gorgeous bronze eye shadow and eyeliner brush her wide brown eyes, and her cheeks are rosy despite being under bronze make-up. Her lips are a deep red, compelling the audience closer, alluring them. Her shoes are gladiator sandals, completing the looks. She smiles at the audience, and they cheer, throwing roses at her. She was beautiful, despite not being typical.

Platinum Worth, her partner, was equally as handsome. He was handsome yet cruel looking, but she gasps at how captivating he was. He was dressed as a god, quite fitting, with a platinum toga, accenting his muscles. His blond hair is, like Anastasia's, covered with a golden laurel wreath. Many admirers throw roses at him, gushing over how handsome he is, and he just surveys them over like a haughty god, like they were made to serve him.

" _They're both amazing looking, aren't they?"_

" _Why, Augustus, their stylists outdid themselves! I'm going to check if I can see to getting something like that."_

" _They were both gorgeous."_

One soon passes out of her sight, and District Two comes into view. The squeals get louder, and more admirers could be heard. Emory saw their reapings. The tributes were both very beautiful and good looking, the top of the top.

Alexis Penn is in a long silver ball gown, her dark brown hair pulled into a fancy, intricate chignon. A silver circlet wraps around her forehead, and flames flicker at the bottom of her dress, representing metal smelting into weapons. Silver bands swirl along her arms, and a beautiful silver ring with green and blue gems steal the jewelry show. Flaming makeup covers her eyes, making the blue in them pop, and her lips are crimson. Her shoes are black ankle boots, making her seem much taller. She notices silver spikes, accenting on how deadly Alexis Penn is. The girl surveys the crowd, taking it like a queen. She is certainly a crowd favourite, from the sound of it. She can see why.

Caydin Armon looks just as handsome, with something that just drew Emory in. His suit is silver as well, but at angles, it looks a bit golden. Must be fitting, as he is the games' Golden Boy. Flames flicker, seemingly smelting the suit like metal. His hair looks naturally mussed up, and his full pink lips are pulled into a smile, making the crowd go crazy. His startling golden eyes briefly meet her, and a hot blush spreads down her cheeks. He smiles at her before whispering something to her partner, making her laugh. The roses go crazy in the air, and some yell, "Marry me!"

Looking at them, she realizes that the metal is not the weapon, but _they_ are. She can see by just that analyse alone that they will be deadly in the games.

" _Alexis Penn was the strongest tribute in the academy this year, maybe one of the strongest females Two's ever had. I can see that she will live up to our expectations of a good Two tribute."_

" _Caydin Armon was an academy legend, beating trainers at the age of thirteen. An all star, and as handsome as his partner is beautiful."_

" _I think we'll all have fun watching them._ "

Three comes in next, and they're certainly an interesting pair. The female has frizzy red hair, and is quite hideous. She screams, cursing the Capitol, and even through both earbuds, she can hear her mother yell at Caligula to cut them out after. It just comes to her that they must be taking notes of all of the tributes. The boy, a young thirteen year old named Ceemore Miller, is dressed similarly, and is nervously smiling at the crowd. They are both dressed in green, red, and blue wires, wrapping around them. It's quite fitting, seeing that they are technology district.

" _What on Panem is that woman doing? How dare she insult us, the Capitol?"_

" _Ugh, I hope she dies in the bloodbath."_

" _The little boy is cute, though."_

" _I hope he won't die too early."_

Four was as amazing as the other Career districts. Anemone Williams, whose mother was a victor, the one of the second Hunger Games, looked stunning as a mermaid. Her long, golden hair was dressed with pearls and seashells, a crown resting on top of her hair. Her blue eyes, icy yet just like the ocean, were dusted with light blue eyeshadow, and her lips were orange. Her purple sequined top reached mid stomach, showing off her toned stomach, and her legs were hugged together by the tail, adorned with shells, tropical flowers, and pearls. Her orange lips smirk at the crowd, waving and blowing kisses like the star she is. She wore no shoes, but her feet were covered by her skirt.

Elias Bryan certainly didn't disappoint either, his entire toned middle was exposed, leaving him shirtless and many girls fainting. Emory found herself staring at his abs, but shook it off. He too had a tail, but it wasn't as adorned as Anemone's. His sea green eyes were bright and he winked flirtatiously out into the crowds. She could hear the giggles and sighs from the balcony.

" _Anemone Williams is Teal Waves' daughter, don't you see the resemblance?"_

" _Ah, that's why she is so beautiful. Her partner was absolutely handsome, he was a show stealer!"_

Five broke her heart almost immediately, a little girl and an elderly man as the tributes. The delicate child was so small, little Heather smiling fragilely at the crowd. Many people gush over how adorable she is. Heather was dressed in a bright yellow dress, her light brown hair in a fishtail braid, dusted with golden glitter. A thick black belt wraps around her tiny waist, the golden glittering dusting the bottom. Black slippers are slipped on, gold glitter dusting it over. Watt's shirt was bright yellow, a black tie wrapping around his neck. His kind eyes look over the crowd, and he whispers what Emory presumes to be comforting words to young Heather. His pants are black, and he wears black shoes. Emory stifles a sob, and fiddles with her hands, biting her lip heavily.

" _Oh my god, the poor child. Why would she be reaped?"_

" _I don't know Yolande, but it saddens me immensely to see that."_

" _And the old man Augustus! How cruel can Five be?"_

" _I don't know Titus. Shame on Five, how could they do that?"_

" _I'm still very excited to see them in action. Maybe they'll be allies?"_

" _We can only hope, Yolande."_

Another horrible, awful, and unfortunate one, Six is known for being quite… average. Nonetheless, tears run down Emory's pale face, as four hits in a row is too hard for her to handle. Shannon and Ford respectively wear yellow, red, and green outfits, made with random splashes of fabric. The belts resemble stop lights, and the shoes are little cars. She clutches the rail for dear life, looking down muffling her face into her arms. She's lucky that her make-up is waterproof, or else her mother wouldn't be happy with her.

" _I'm not too impressed with Six this year."_

" _I am still sad about these tributes, though! The outfits may be boring and drab, but the tributes! Oh my heart, I feel awful."_

" _It's not their fault that their district in general is boring."_

Seven comes so fast that Emory looks up quickly to show that she is still watching. Willow Feyr, only two years younger than her, is looking stunning with a dress made out of autumn leaves, some blowing behind her. Her brown hair flows with the speed and win, her make-up red and yellow and orange. Emory is in love with her outfit, she's never seen something more beautiful than that. She made a mental note to ask her stylist to make a dress similar to that, it's absolutely captivating.

Leer Golder smiles beside his partner, waving beside adoring fans, getting roses tossed his way. He, however, represents summer and spring, his shirt made out of green leaves, so bright that Emory can see anything else for a while. When she can see again, she notices that his pants are a muddy brown, as are his shoes. She smiles slightly. They are a pair that she likes.

" _Willow Feyr? Anthony Feyr's daughter? Oh my goodness, Anthony is mentoring his daughter! That must be amazing!"_

" _Poor Leer though, the mentors may favour Willow over him."_

" _Well, maybe he should befriend a victor then."_

" _True."_

The male and female tributes of Eight stroll in, and Emory is captivated by the sheer beauty of the District Eight female. She's absolutely stunning naturally, she's seen the reapings, and is shocked by how beautiful she looks in real life. Harper Regalia, the mayor's daughter, has her wavy caramel hair out and flowing, and her violet eyes are dusted with white eyeshadow. She was wearing a vibrant purple dress with golden accents, like thread, and her shoes were golden.

Noah Weaver wore a thread chain, and she could see him glare back for a slight second. Golden thread and black pants are what he is primarily wearing, representing that Eight is the textile district well. She is amazed every day with how creative the stylists for the games can get.

" _Harper Regalia is just… wow. She is absolutely stunning."_

" _I agree. The most stunning tribute I've ever seen Titus, I'm amazed with her."_

" _I hope she won't be disappointing."_

" _Her partner is quite the looker as well. Noah Weaver, right?"_

" _Yup. I love what the stylist did for them. I need to see if I could get Harper's dress from them."_

Nine is certainly… interesting. The girl, Kayla Nevius, is looking at the Capitol in wonder, grinning out of nowhere. She wears a Japanese like kimono with grains piling at the bottom of her feet. Her blonde hair is wispily tied into a bun, the wheat coloured hair matching with the actual wheat in her hair.

Sickle Rhoades, her partner, is just as interesting as her. He is wearing a kimono shirt, with the sleeves going all the way to the bottom of the chariot, and beige pants blend in with the grains at his feet. Stalks of grain intertwine together and weave around his head, giving him an… interesting effect. His feet, weird enough, are dressed with open toe sandals, something Emory wouldn't suggest wearing if you were _actually_ working around grains.

" _They are certainly an interesting pair."_

" _Agreed. I love the ancient Japanese style the stylists went with, it gave them an overall interesting effect."_

" _I hope that they will be fun to see later on."_

" _I know they will."_

Ten comes and goes quickly, but not before Emory catches a quick glance. The girl is tiny, with her black bob held back by a white headband, and her petite, tiny frame is clung together by a skin-tight white jumpsuit, the pants flaring out at the bottom, and black stripes coming across it. She has cowgirl boots on, something quite interesting and doesn't match with the outfit. The boy, Dennis, is dressed similarly, but projects a glare across the crowd, cursing the stylists most likely. Emory doesn't blame him. Their outfits were quite mediocre.

" _Erm, what is that?"_

" _Those are Leona Allerton and Dennis Herd."_

" _No, I mean what are they wearing? Strips with flared pants and leather boots? Atrocious!"_

" _I don't know what the stylist was thinking, or what Caligula Noman was thinking hiring that person."_

Eleven catches her attention fast. The female and male seem so different, and so far apart from each other. The girl, Blair Wild (she was a very strong looking tribute, of course Emory wanted to know more about her) was dressed beautifully, in an intricate dark blue, almost violet dress. The skirt poofs out generously, and shows off her violet shoes. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun, and she can see the attempts of smiling on Blair's face. Emory knows that she could win. If only her mother won't rig the games to get rid of anyone from District Eleven.

Dayley Stockholm, the mayor's son, is dressed in a dark blue suit, with a violet tie and dark blue dress pants. His dress shirt is black, contrasting greatly with his dark blond hair and pale skin, but he looks handsome. He just stares ahead, blankly, and without life in him. She can hear her mother scoff at the tributes.

"Pathetic."

" _The tributes for Eleven look so sad. Why?"_

" _I don't know, Yolande, but they certainly will do well. The girl looks spectacular and strong."_

" _I'm betting on her."_

Alas, the pair from Twelve comes in, both obviously from the poorer part of the district. Ashe Ellwood looks beautiful with her light dusting of freckles highlighted ever so slightly on her face, framing her blue eyes. Her dark brown hair is pulled into a single braid, the stylists evidently taming her curls. She wears a dark dress, one that stops mid-knee, showing her fishnets. Her eyes are smoky, and her make-up is dark, but she looks beautiful.

Shadow is dressed in a similar fashion, but black dust seems to dust his cheeks, maybe to represent coal dust. He wears a black suit, and everything else is black. They obviously did this to represent the district's main export, which was coal for the Capitol.

" _Again, most of the costumes are beautiful!"_

" _Agreed, I can't wait for President Starling's speech."_

The chariots collect in front of the balcony, and Emory stashes her ear buds to the side of her chair and stands beside her mother almost automatically. She brushes herself off and beams at everyone down below. Caligula remains seated, he doesn't have any note of significance yet.

"Welcome, tributes, to the twenty fifth Hunger Games, and the first ever Quarter Quell!" she says, smiling and beaming at the crowd. Some glare, while others look at her attentively. "I thank you so much for your sacrifice. I'm a pleased that most of you look stunning in honor of my husband, the late James Starling. We will give you two weeks here in the forgiving and welcoming Capitol, and we hope to see you all do _spectacularly_ in the games."

The crowd bursts out in cheers, and her mother smirks. The tributes are escorted out, and Emory looks at her mother, who stares at Caligula. "That was not as I expected."

Caligula beams, but her mother puts up a silencing hand almost warningly. "It was worse, not up to it. I'll give you these games, Caligula, to prove yourself. Or maybe you'll find yourself gone soon enough."

She turns her head high, staring sharply at her daughter. "Come on Emory, the parties are about to begin. We'll see you inside Caligula." She sends another scathing look at the Head Gamemaker, before taking her daughter's hand and dragging her along.

Emory stares out behind her, looking at Caligula, almost feeling pity for the awful and brash Head Gamemaker, who shakes in fear.

Perhaps people in the Capitol aren't so safe either.

* * *

 **I hope you liked Emory's point of view! She is by far one of my favourite characters to write. This chapter is shorter to give you guys a break from the last time. Tell me which costume and pair was your favourite and which one you'd wear in public!**

 **Next chapter is the first ever training day, which will be some action. I'll give each tribute one point of view in one day, but nothing more. See you next time, I'm getting them out as fast as I can! :)**

 _~Ata_


	17. Training Day I- Blood

_**Training Days: I**_

 _Blood_

* * *

 _Willow Feyr, 16_

 _District Seven Female Tribute_

* * *

"In one week, twenty three of you will be dead. And the survivor, the lone person who actually _listens_ to us, will be crowned victor…" the head trainer, Artemis Lune, snaps, her silver eyes glaring sharply at us. I can see her pass over me with recognition. She probably knows my father.

Artemis has been in the business since the beginning, and she's an absolute ace. " _Don't piss off Artemis,"_ my dad warned me. " _I swear she controls who win. The ones she likes usually win."_

I remember my dad telling me stories about his days in the games. Well, anything but the actual games. I've always yearned to learn more, to learn everything I can about the past and the future. He would choke up when I would ask for the actual fighting and killing. I don't blame him, I could hear his quiet sobs into my mother's shoulders when they thought I was asleep.

The training days were always the star of the show. " _You learn a lot about the people you go against, pumpkin. You watch for their strengths, their weakness, everything by just watching. It's always a skill you need to learn. You watch. That's how you make allies, sweetie."_

I try to do the same now. The Careers group together, and I notice that the girl from One is not there with them. I furrow my brows in confusion, looking at where she is. I see her going over to two girls. The Careers, especially the girl from Four, glare daggers at her. I move away from them. I don't want to be involved in that mess, especially this early.

My competition isn't much. Of course, there are the Careers, a small, reduced group of five. The boy from One is looking around with a smirk on his face, surveying us over like we're going to be crying in pain and begging him to kill us in one week. I shudder. We most likely will if we come across him. The girl from Two whispers into her partner's ear, and the girl from Four tries to listen in while maintaining her glare. Impressive. The boy is staring off at something, and I follow his train of sight. It's to the ground.

I wonder if they would take a replacement for the missing space. It most likely would happen only if the person was at Career standards, nothing more. The kid from Three is off and gone to the plant section, his partner whining and complaining to some trainer, who looks like he wants to shove the sword in his hands into her mouth to shut her up.

The people from Five and Six are easy to look over, they're mostly elderly people with a little girl, whom I think is from Five. She has wandered off as well, but her partner's eyes are trained carefully over her, maybe to make sure she'll be okay. She stares at the boy from Ten with a curious expression. He doesn't notice, but heads over to the blades area. She soon follows, her partner not too far behind.

Leer doesn't say a word to me, just marches off to the survival area. I sigh. Well, it's not like I'm good at talking to new people anyway, even with people that are partnered with me to die in an arena for others' entertainment.

I study the girl from Eight, who despite being in a super tight black lycra jumpsuit like everyone else, is actually looking cool, confident, and not mean. Her violet eyes flicker back and forth at people, perhaps doing the same as me. Her partner is gone from view, and the girl actually looks relieved.

The blonde from Nine is so chirpy and excited that I have to tear my eyes away from her. It shouldn't annoy me, everyone is entitled to their own opinions and likes, but don't quote me on this when I _respectfully_ , mind you, ask _what the hell is wrong with her?_ Like, why is she actually happy to be here? Isn't that what a Career is like? No one wants to die, maybe she's enthusiastic about her impending doom? Her partner, however, is much easier to look at, as he looks sullen and upset, already walking away from his _most likely_ pain in the butt of a partner.

Ten is a little girl who looks like she would barely lift a sword, much less swing it. She bites her lip, looking alone, and then stares longingly at the small group of three that I made a point to not come across. She walks over to them, and I cringe for her. The Careers will target that group because of the stupid One girl, I can guarantee it. She beams as the girls nod and smile at her encouragingly. I sigh. Well, at least she has allies. Maybe she'll make it further with one.

I walk away to the axe station, as the Careers aren't there, and lift one of them. A trainer notices me, but I don't pay attention to her. The axe feels so wrong. It's much lighter, the feel not like I expected, and it's cold and metal. I turn the simulation on at _easy_ to try and see how it would work.

The first dummy comes to me, and I swing at it. It breaks in half, and I bite my lips. _It's like cutting down trees_ , I tell myself. Only, I don't really cut down trees unless it's with my dad. Nonetheless, as the second one comes close to me, and I run, slide under it, and slice it in half.

The little digital screen shows that I have thirteen dummies left. I toss my ax for another feel, gripping it tighter. Sweat trickles down my brow, and I wipe it away. The dummies come and come and come, and I slice them through. Only one straggler remains, and the simulation gives me a score of seven out of ten. I smile to myself, that was good.

The trainer comes over, her bright red hair pulled into a voluminous ponytail. "You're doing well. Anthony's daughter, right?" I nod, looking down. The axe was my dad's choice weapon as well, but with no work for me, I never really learned how to use it as well. "Perhaps I can teach you a few tricks. For one, you're gripping the handle too tight. That makes that swings way harder. I'll set the simulation back up so you could try it again."

I get ready, loosening my grip on the rubbery handle, and breathe in deeply. I can do this. The trainer makes me practice different techniques a few more times until she's satisfied, and I feel much better. This station is something I will visit again for sure, as long as the Careers aren't near.

The obstacle course is the only other thing that isn't busy. I have learned a bit of parkour from running away from bullies at home, and looking at what may be the arena, revamping up my skills in parkour may be very smart. Perhaps I could climb in trees and stay there for the majority of the games. The girl from Nine is there, but she's talking excitedly to a trainer as of the moment. I step and press the button on the course, looking through it. " _Get ready Willow Feyr. Your course begins in three, two, one."_

I get up and start sprinting, dodging the moving boulders coming my way. There's a huge pole leading close to the ceiling, and in desperation, I jump up, barely grabbing the bar. The boulders below down stop, and I shakily hoist myself into the rafters. I swing across the rope to the bottom, but I miss my footing and fall. A cry of pain escapes my lips, and people in my area stare at me, the Careers laughing.

A hot blush spreads across my face, and manage to stand up, the pain in my ankle flaring. I attempt to get back up and try again, but the trainer stops me, a stern look on his face. I gulp. Is falling really bad? "You need to get looked at. We can't have a tribute injured."

Realization dawns over me. _Of course_. They need all of their tributes in top shape to be able to compete for their lives. I bite my lip and stare at the ground, and with the help of a trainer, limp to the medical area, ignoring the snickers coming my way. The trainer starts to converse with the medic, who takes a look at my ankle. "It's just sprained, not broken. I can use some ointment for that, it would heal by tomorrow."

She spreads it on, and a fuzzy feel courses throughout my body. I relax into the chair, and when Birch and Dad come to get me, I hobble towards them.

Out there, the tributes are still training, but since I am injured, I must be ushered back to the apartments in order to be healed for tomorrow. I can't be hurt for the games, I guess.

Dad stares at me worriedly, but I shoot him a hesitant smile. "I'm fine," I reassure him. He stares ahead, nodding as he and Birch help me into the elevator up to floor Seven.

When am I never not okay?

* * *

 _Leona Allerton, 13_

 _District Ten Female Tribute_

* * *

"You'll be fine," Tatyana had reassured me right before I took the elevator with Dennis down to the training area. I bit my lip, and shrugged, tears welling up in my eyes. I wipe them away quickly, but she catches it, holding my shoulders. "I swear you will be. No one can hurt you there, they'll be in a lot of trouble."

I manage a nod and a weak smile, and she brushes a stray lock from my short ponytail behind my ear. My training outfit is tight and uncomfortable, it being lycra and navy. "Thank you Taty," I whisper. She smiles, hugging me before dusting herself off and sending me to the elevator.

"It's no problem sweetheart. I'll see you when you get back, I know that you'll do great." I nod and smile tightly, looking back at Dennis, who stares at the ground. Excellent, just excellent. I walk over, and the elevator dings open. He must have pressed the button. The ride was silent and awkward, I didn't know what to say.

My anxiety came over me as Artemis, the head trainer, started talking about us dying, and I start to feel clammy. The walls, so big, sleek, and silver, start to close in. The ceiling seems smaller. I try to look away, but I look at the Careers. There are five of them, not six, but they all scare me. They all look like they won't hesitate to kill me.

I see my own corpse on the ground, bleeding out with the Four girl standing over me, laughing to her allies. I can see the boy from One snickering and taking an extra stab at my body. The pair from Two are snickering, holding their hands over their mouths in order to contain their laughter. The boy from Four would watch as his allies do this to me, humiliate me, even though I'm dead, and smiles, a faint laugh in the of his throat.

I can see it clearly. Artemis says a few words, and reality snaps back to me. I am not in the arena. _Yet_. I am in the training center, preparing for my death. Tears well up in my eyes, and I pinch myself, telling myself to wake up. My eyes snap open once more, and I see people going off, perhaps making allies.

 _Allies_. I know that without them, I will be a corpse on the ground, the person the Careers laugh at while they stab me until they can't lift their blade anymore. I see a group of girls form, all way older than me. I think that the girls from Eleven and Twelve are teaming up, and the One girl beams at them, laughing at something one of them said.

I walk over timidly, not lifting my head up, too scared to talk to them. The girl from One notices me first, and smiles brightly. I manage to weakly smile back. "Hi," she says. The girl from Eleven smiles brightly at me, and the girl from Twelve follows suit.

"H- hi," I stutter back. A blush comes over my face. The girls don't laugh at me however, they only smile encouragingly. I feel better, my confidence growing. "I'm Leona. Fr- from Ten."

"Hi Leona," the girl from Twelve smiles. "I'm Ashe. This is Blair," she nods at the girl from Eleven, and I am surprised to see that her name is like one from One, "and she's Anastasia." The girl from One beams at me, and I give her a weak smile. "Are you asking to join our alliance?"

I nod so fast that I think my head would have fallen off if it had not been so tightly put on. They laugh, and Ashe gives me a warm smile, clasping me lightly on the back, pulling me into their little circle. "Of course we wouldn't say no, you're welcome to join our alliance."

I manage to laugh, and follow them to the different stations. Looking around, the diverse choices overwhelm me slightly, but my new allies don't seem to be overwhelmed. Anastasia, having had been trained in a Career academy, shrugs, leading us to the edible plants station. Blair gives her a questioning look, which she shrugs off. "We need to know what we can't and can eat if we want to survive in the arena. I know a fair bit of it from the academy, but this is the complete set of what will be in there."

She was right. She, Blair, and Ashe breezed through the sections, answering the majority of the questions correctly. I, on the other hand, couldn't decide if the blueberry was edible or not.

 _Nightlock,_ it read. _Edible or poisonous?_

With trembling fingers, I pressed edible. The screen flashed red, circling the _poisonous_ section instead, and I bite my lip hard.

The next is a plant called a _katniss_. It's a pretty thing, not vicious looking at all. I pick the edible part, and the screen flashes green. My score is a thirteen out of forty five, and tears well up in my eyes. If I don't memorize or at least know what's poisonous soon, I'll die quickly in the arena.

My allies wait for me, talking quietly about different strategies, and head off to the shelter building area. I stumble a lot to make a simple hut, and as soon as I crawl inside of it, it falls down.

Frustration wells up in me, and I stumble a lot as we go through the different stations. The knot tying station was something I was good at, my tiny fingers coming in use, and I soon manage a perfect snare, the first in my allies.

But as I go through and through my failures and accomplishments, I realize that I only drag my allies down.

* * *

 _Caydin Armon, 20_

 _District Two Male Tribute_

* * *

"She's so stupid, Caydin. How could she not join the Careers?" Alexis whispers in my ear. I shrug, glaring at the petite brunette, socializing with the girls from Eleven and Twelve. "She's dead as soon as she steps foot in the arena, Anemone and Platinum called dibs on killing her slowly and painfully. She's being bold, but reckless."

"Well, it's not our problem. We need a replacement. Anastasia will just have to die along with her allies. She's gone, not a threat." My voice drops down a few octaves. I can see Anemone eavesdrop on our conversation. I put my mouth to her ear. "You know who our biggest threats are, Alexis."

She nods, eyeing down Anemone, who says something to Platinum, who smirks. "I know that they'll kill us once we reach the final five. We need to keep our guards up."

Elias yawns, looking around bored. "Hey guys, you know the speech ended fifteen minutes ago. Do you want to train or just stand there and gossip more than Mags and Coral do for the rest of the day?"

Alexis and I laugh, even though we don't know who Coral is, and we head to the hand to hand combat station. Anemone goes first, sauntering and winking back at me, shaking her hips from side to side. The trainer smirks, and they start to fight, Anemone using an axe. She swings it, and after a while, she has it at the trainer's neck. "I yield," he says, looking at her impressed.

Platinum is an absolute beast with his machete, the trainer going down quickly. Elias uses a trident effortlessly, quickly dodging blows and thrusting it forward. "They're strong. We're the strongest pack ever," Alexis whispers. I nod, studying them. "I do agree, though. We need someone else. Preferably another girl, I don't really like my choice here."

"Will do partner," I wink. Elias comes victorious, smirking at Anemone, and I pat her on the back. "Have fun."

She mock scoffs, flipping her dark brown ponytail behind her ear and confidently walks off to the mats. She grabs a sword, and balances it with her hand, grabbing a medium level trainer.

 _I'm not good at hand to hand,_ she had said last night with our mentors. _I'm more like an assassin, like I live long range weapons. I find that they're most efficient_.

 _It's okay_ , I had replied. _I'm good with hand to hand, you'll just destroy them long range_.

Roman and Phoebe had only laughed. _Alright_ , my best friend giggles. _Just stay together_.

She manages to disarm the trainer, kicking her legs under his, tripping him. He struggles to get up, and Alexis puts all of her body weight on him, pinning him under her. "Yield?" she asks innocently, a big smile on her face as she holds her sword to his neck.

He sighs. "I yield." She helps him up, and nods at me. "Partner."

I smirk at her, grabbing the most difficult trainer, and take a sword. The sword is my favourite weapon: it's flexible, lightweight, easy to handle, and always makes a clean cut down. It's simple, and I'm a simple guy. We start up, and the clock starts up. He makes a move first, and I dodge with ease. I notice an open spot in his rib cage area, so after he swipes at me, I punch him hard in that spot. He topples over with shock, and I kick him down, putting my knee on him, whacking his weapon away. I bring my sword to his neck, and he taps my shoulder twice, signalling that he yields.

A huge smile comes to my face, and I wink at Alexis, who beams back. The timer reads _00:00.15_ , which means that I beat the highest Capitol level trainer in fifteen seconds. Anemone wolf whistles, sending me an obscure wink, while Elias claps me on the back. Platinum even cracks a smile.

"So, what's next?" I ask.

Alexis shrugs. "I don't know… maybe archery? I need to brush off my skills, you know. Scare some kids and all of that."

I snort. "Archery? Are you kidding me? I suck at it."

"Oh my god, Caydin Armon isn't good at something! Oh, woe is me. Suck it up Golden Boy, you could show off later," she giggles, causing our allies (mainly Platinum and Anemone) to look ahead in our direction.

I pout, and she sticks her tongue out at me, rolling her eyes playfully. We head to the archery section, and rows and rows of shiny, polished silver bows are lined up. Alexis frowns, picking one up and inspecting it to see if was up to her standards. I shrug, just picking one up and heading beside her. She finally chooses one and lines up, drawing the bow back.

It snaps and lands perfectly into the target. She nocks another arrow and draws the string back, hitting and hitting the target perfectly. I sigh. All of our allies are firing up on the bows, and I am just staring at Alexis doing her thing. I guess I should try.

You see, I'm not the _worst_ at archery, but I'm not the most reliable with aim when it comes to it. I can hit a target, just not in the correct area. I pull back the string, arrow nocked, and shoot. The silver arrow flies and hits the closest ring to the bulls eye. Good enough, I guess.

Alexis snorts. "You suck," she says as she shoots another one in the bulls eye.

"Thanks," I reply sarcastically. "I love long range weapons _so much_."

"You poor, poor baby," she mocks, finally facing me. "Just give me a couple more minutes, I hope you could stand sucking at something for just a little longer."

I pout again. "Stop that, Caydin, pouting just makes you look like a pig."

"Hey!" I exclaim.

"The truth hurts, Caydin, the truth hurts." I sigh, shooting the arrows again, more in frustration. Anemone comes over, a little light in her blue eyes.

"You okay Caydin?" she asks, but I know she's not being genuine. I study her, the way the corner of her lips curl into a smile. It's not a friendly one, though, it's just so she could get information. There were many girls like that in the academy, ones that would sleep with just about anyone to climb their way to the top. Anemone Williams probably sleeps with people so she could find out their weaknesses. I know that she wouldn't hesitate to kill me in the arena.

"Yeah, just peachy here," I reply with an easy smile, casually putting the bow back to where it was. "Alexis, let's get going now. We have three days, that's enough for some more time tomorrow." I direct my attention to her now. "You?"

"I'm just fine," she purrs, running her hands along my biceps. I put on a smirk, but I shy away as soon as Alexis comes. I avoid Anemone's claws, much to her disappointment and my own relief. She does recover quickly as Platinum and Elias join us. "Where are we going next?"

"Maybe knives?" Elias suggests. I look at him in shock, the guy didn't say much. Maybe I was just talking to Alexis a lot. I look over to my partner, who nods approvingly. Knives are good. I like knives.

I turn on the simulation, throwing a few knives effortlessly in the dummies' chests. Alexis grins as the dummies sprint around, hitting most of them. It's almost impossible to hit all of the dummies, especially in sprinting mode. Anemone is deadly, the knives hitting the heads and eyes. I wince, not wanting to be on the other side of that. Elias comes over to me. "Hey man," he says. "The girls are looking pretty serious right now."

I laugh. I find Elias easy to talk to, like Ajax in a way. "Yeah, I wonder what's got them so fueled up. Alexis loves her aim."

Elias looks out wistfully, most likely reminiscing something. "Yeah, she seems like she does." I feel like he wasn't talking about my partner, but someone else, but I brush it aside. Platinum throws them quickly and fiercely, and Elias and I chat for a bit, throwing the knives around almost leisurely.

A girl comes to our station, and Elias holds back a breath. "Holy shit," he swears under his breath, and I look at her, and my breath is taken away.

It's the girl from Eight, who I didn't notice until now looks like an absolute goddess. Long legs, hair that looks like liquid caramel tied into a braid, and determined violet eyes captivate me. She doesn't seem to notice us, or if she does, just ignores the fact that we're here, and turns the simulation onto _sprinting_.

"Wow," I agree. Elias and my eyes are glued to her, and she throws knives so beautifully that you would think it's an art. She hits every single target, and my mouth goes dry. Even Alexis, the best of the best, couldn't hit every single dummy in sprinting mode. This girl, the girl from Eight, is an absolute ace. Absolutely Career material.

I leave Elias gaping at the girl, and head over to Alexis. I tap her on the shoulder after she's done and she turns around abruptly. "What?" she asks. I grab her aside, away from the eavesdroppers that are our allies. She gives me a curious look, glancing around warily before crossing her arms.

"You know how I said we needed a replacement for Anastasia?" I asked. She narrows her blue eyes disbelievingly.

"I didn't think you were serious about that Caydin, we don't need anyone else. We're fine, another person, especially an _outlier_ would drag us down. Our allies don't seem to… _fond_ of outer districts."

"Okay, but this person is seriously good at knives. Watch Alexis." Her eyebrows raise, and nothing moves. "Please?"

"Fine," she snaps, looking over longingly at her knives and the unfinished simulation. She follows my finger, and watches as the girl from Eight starts up the program again. The robots sprint, but knives are lodged into their stomachs almost as soon as they head out. "That's- that's amazing Caydin. She's good."

"Another girl as well, so you could potentially have someone else to talk to. Not that you need to, though, because you have me, but she'd probably be open to it." She gives our allies uneasy looks.

"What about them?" I know she is talking about Elias, Anemone, and Platinum. I shrug.

"I think Elias already likes her," Alexis snorts, covering her mouth with her hands, before motioning me to finish, "Platinum seems pretty chill at these types of things, he probably won't care. Anemone though…" I trail off, Alexis' eyes harden.

"We'll overrule her then. I give you permission to ask the girl to be a Career. She'd be an idiot to say no, Anastasia's dead because she rejected us," she jokes. I wink at Elias who gives me a wolf whistle as I head over to the girl, Alexis trailing behind me. It's better that way, because she may be shorter than most people but she's absolutely scary.

"Hey," I say. The girl jumps before turning around. Alexis nods at her, and the girl tightens her hold on the knife.

"Hi," she replies cautiously. I give her an easy smile, one that works on every female I've come into contact with, but she doesn't seem to relax at all. Her eyes stay trained on me, not moving. She's obviously smart, keeping her wits about her.

"Caydin Armon," I try again. "This is my partner Alexis Penn," Alexis gives her a wave and smiles slightly, "Elias Bryan is the goof over there," he had replied with a 'hey!" that Alexis and I laugh off, "Platinum Worth is the guy throwing knives right now, and Anemone Williams is the girl near Platinum."

"Harper Regalia," she replies softly. God, even her voice sounds gorgeous. It's soft and melodic, fitting her image and making her even more attractive. She gives Alexis a soft smile, before looking at me again. There isn't a stutter in her voice, but I don't doubt that she's not a little scared of us.

"Nice to meet you Harper. Say, you're pretty good with a knife," I state, subtly flexing my biceps. I don't know why, but I have the need to show off in front of her.

"Thank you," she smiles, but her eyes stray to my biceps ever so slightly. Bingo.

A huge smirk comes to my face, and I flex again. Alexis coughs, kicking my ankle subtly, giving me a look. "Oh, so, since you're decent, probably the best outlier here, how would you like to live longer?"

Alexis actually then does punch me, her blue eyes giving me a glare, before stepping own _hard_ on my foot. Harper gives me a weird look, and Alexis shrugs at her. "Um, I'd personally not want to die at all… thanks."

"Don't listen to the idiot, he doesn't really think. Such a big person too… lucky he makes up for the lack of brain cells with being good at fighting." I give her a wounded look, which my (mean) district partner brushes off carelessly. "He means that how would you like to join the Careers?"

Harper gives her a surprised look, her pretty violet eyes widened with disbelief. "What? Really?" she asks. Alexis nods in confirmation. "Um, I mean, I'm honoured, but can I get back to you on it? Like talk to my mentors about this and such?"

Alexis shrugs, giving a wary look back. "Sorry, no. The deal walks away with us." I open my mouth in protest, but Alexis sends me a look that just makes me clamp my mouth down. "And… most likely our allies wouldn't be too happy, so just make your mind up now."

Harper bites her lip, in obvious deep thought, and I study her, wondering what she could be possibly thinking about. Her violet eyes harden, and her back straightens up even more than it already had been before. "I'll join you guys," she says, her voice unwavering.

Alexis beams, grabbing her arm and dragging her over. "Good choice," she replies. I laugh as Harper nervously squeals, following them to our allies. Anemone doesn't look too happy, but soon she'll see that we need Harper.

Our Career pack is finally complete.

* * *

 _Anastasia Ripley, 17_

 _District One Female Tribute_

* * *

"Remember, if you are not joining the Careers, you might as well try to make allies," Shimmer says carelessly, drinking her red wine elegantly, if that was even possible.

With her curly, golden blonde hair and emerald green eyes, she is certain typical for a girl from One. Her type hates me for being different, for not being bloodthirsty. She and Tilver both didn't want to mentor me, which made me uneasy and a bit terrified. If she won't put effort in my well being in the arena, I will surely die.

"Yes," I say, putting a strained smile on my face. "I'll put that in mind."

As I head to the elevator, Shimmer stops me. "Wait!" she calls. I turn back at her, looking at her hopefully. Maybe she wants to be a better mentor and try to help me do well, and possibly see my friends and family again. "Stay away from your partner, Tilver and I want to see him actually train, not plan to kill you all day."

Tears of disgust well up in my eyes, and I rush into the elevator. Platinum is already downstairs, most likely making friends with the other Careers, and that leaves me alone. Anger flows through me; why must everything be against me?

As I get into the training center, my anxiety goes up. The place is huge and clean, familiar, but this is not the academy, something you would not die in. This is me training to fight for my life.

I could feel their eyes burning at my back. The Careers narrow their eyes at me, my partner in particular, but I don't waver. No, I must honour Gigi by not joining them. I could tell that even if I do now, they won't hesitate to kill me as soon as I step inside the arena.

Artemis is done speaking now, and relief floods me. I scramble away quickly from the Careers, not looking back. I need allies, though, or else I would die in the arena faster than I intend to. I scan the area for potential people, and find two girls pairing up. The girl from Eleven smiles good naturedly at the girl from Twelve.

I head over to them, my head high. _Confidence is key_ , I tell myself. The girl from Twelve gives me a neutral stare, while a scowl appears on the girl from Eleven's face. I gulp, knowing that she is not being welcoming. "Hi," I smile nervously. "I'm Anastasia, from One. I was wondering if you would like to be allies?"

The girl from Twelve shrugs, looking over to her partner, who glares at me. "No," Eleven dead pans, crossing her arms defensively. "Why would we want to be partners with you?"

"I'm good with a bow, know some basic survival skills," I continue, looking at her straight in the eye. Inside, my brain is screaming for me to go away and not get involved in this, but my body refuses to move, my mouth talking without thinking. They don't want to be my allies, why am I trying? "I've been trained in the academy, I have a general idea of the arenas, I know a lot about their mut-"

"Can you just shut up?" Eleven snaps, glaring harshly at me. I reel back like I was slapped in the face. _Get away now Anastasia!_ "We don't want to be allies with a ditsy One girl, you're no better than any of them. Slutty, useless, worthless. You're a waste of space."

The girl from Twelve looks down, not making eye contact with any of us. Tears burn my eyes as I bite my tongue. Eleven gives me a smug look, expecting me to slink away with my head between my legs, but I don't budge. _She's like Diamond, Ruby, and Amber_ , I tell myself.

I don't see why I am still trying though. Something about her attitude makes me want to slap her, but at the same time, I want to take the high road. No, I will not walk away. I will prove her wrong, so _she'd_ want to partner with _me_.

"Well, I'm sorry that you're too narrow minded to see the truth," I reply icily, "but we're all going to get tossed in the arena in a week, so I don't know about you, but I'd personally like to live. But, I guess that if you want to be a bitch about it, it's fine. The Careers love to take out low life bitches, I should know. I've trained with them."

A smug smirk that I can't just help but let crawl up my face makes me feel victorious. The girl from Eleven looks shocked, her mouth gaping like a fish, and the girl from Twelve just can't stop staring. I cross my arms, giving the girl from Eleven the filthiest glare I can manage, one the head instructor in the academy would give Lust when he was fooling around with people. "I'll get going now, I just hope I don't see your faces too early in the sky."

I turn my heel, my head high, and my grin can't stop growing. I don't need them now; unless they want me. There are plenty of people to ally with; perhaps the girls from Eight and Seven?

"Wait!" the girl from Twelve exclaims. I look back as she elbows her partner slightly. I cross my arms, giving her my best dead stare. She replies with coming forward, jutting out her head somewhat confidently. "We'd love to have you in our alliance. I'm Ashe, by the way."

"Great!" I smile, but I don't move. "Unfortunately, I don't want allies that want to kill me."

"Um, we wouldn't try to do it. Blair's a little edgy, she doesn't really like girls from One, no offense. You'd probably defeat both of us anyway, and we're not stupid. We could really use someone like you," Ashe says, sticking her hand out. "Deal?"

I shake it, a huge smile coming to my face. _Hook, line, sinker._ "Deal."

Blair is definitely still not happy when we come back, but she nods at me. "I'm- _sorry_ ," she forces out, giving me a strained smile. Ashe nods encouragingly. "I just really hate girls from your district. They're just really _useless and dumb_ , you know?"

I shrug. "And you don't think I know that?"

"And we're dying anyway, so no offense but we didn't think we needed you," she continues, looking at me straight in the eye.

I just stare back at her, crossing my arms. "That's why I asked to be your allies. We have to fight to survive."

* * *

 _Anemone Williams, 22_

 _District Four Female Tribute_

* * *

I hated the fact that the outsider was in our ranks. She doesn't belong here, she's not one of us, even if she pretends to be. She isn't pretty, she is useless, not needed. Oh dear, what would my mother say? I guess that even though Careers weren't established back then, there were richer districts.

They didn't even mostly mind her around. Elias, that player-ish fool, is checking her out, even though she isn't even pretty! Alexis laughs at some of her jokes, and she doesn't even always do that with me! Platinum didn't really give her any emotions, but he isn't glaring hatefully at her. And Caydin, the supposed strongest Career in our group is grinning at her admiringly… disappointing. He was the idiot who invited her to join the Careers.

We didn't need anyone else. Anastasia was most likely useless, just a stupid One girl with less brain cells than my losses in the academy. She is not vital to our Career pack, and neither is Harper.

I grit my teeth at the girl, who smiles falsely at _my_ allies. She guides us over to the edible plant section, and points to the huge chart of poisonous plants. "I've watched the games several times, and a lot of the time tributes would die by nightlock," she says softly, looking at us pointedly.

I scoff, crossing my arms and glaring at her. "Seriously, all of us watch the games. It's part of our training in the academy, that's how we learn," I yawn. I know I've won this, Elias nods in agreement.

"Then why do many Career tributes die by it then?" she throws back. I gape, glaring at her even harsher than before, balling my hands into fists. Oh hell no, this stupid girl will not embarrass me-

"Anyway, bottom line is, don't eat blueberries. Or anything that looks like blueberries. It's probably going to kill you," she interrupts. I scoff once more, tossing my fishtail plait over my shoulder and staring at her. Her head is up high haughty and I glare at her.

The Careers nod, and a grin grows on Platinum's face. I wonder what he's planning, he certainly seems like he has a few tricks up his sleeve.

The rest of the training day is uneventful. We practice spears, something I do with ease. I can see the Gamemakers in the corner of my eye, observing us, watching us, taking notes. I make sure I look my best.

 _It's always good to make an impression before the sessions_ , my mother had always said. The chances of increasing my odds will help me gain even more sponsors, which isn't a problem for me as I am the most beautiful female tribute, and the strongest. Caydin may beat me in brute strength, but I am smarter than him and shorter, lithe. I have an advantage. Either that, or I can use my special skills.

Platinum is smart as well, well trained like _most_ of my allies, but I should be able to take him down as well with no problem. Maybe just a quick beheading to satisfy the Capitol's love for blood lust.

Alexis will be a challenge, but I outweigh her in training and experience. _I_ have killed people before, something you do in the academy. Sure, most likely she has as well, but I am stronger. She seems better at range than hand to hand, and that's how I will kill her.

Elias, oh Elias, he will be my final fun in the arena before I stab his heart. He was always a good lay, but when I win, everyone will know my name.

The outlier will be my first Career kill. Maybe a drawn out blood show for the entire nation of Panem to see? She's humiliated me today, it's only fitting I do the same for her. I can hear her screams get louder and louder, and a vicious smirk creeps up on my face.

I look at her, imagining her so called 'pretty' features bloodied up, her face covered in blood, bruises, and tears, her begging me to kill her.

Oh yes, I just can't wait for the games.

* * *

 _Shannon Farley, 84_

 _District Six Female Tribute_

* * *

I spend most of my time keeping a close eye on the little girl from Five.

She nears closer to the male from Ten, but I can't help but make sure she's okay. She remind me a lot of my daughters when they were younger, sweet, kind, innocent. It's a shame that the children will be forced to fight to survive in the games.

The Careers make my heart clench in pity. They may be killers, trained in multiple ways to murder a victim, but at the end, they are all children, not the monsters the Capitol created them to be.

We live in a world of stereotypes, I can see that now. The people from One, especially the females, are given the mold of being stupid and dumb, although very good looking. The girl seems very smart; the male seems like he knows what he's doing.

The people from Two are raised in the harsh mountains, creating weapons for the Capitol. What they don't know is that they _are_ the Capitol's weapons. They are often the deadliest opponents in the games, trained to be the perfect weapons and assassins the Capitol can hope for.

Three has very smart tributes. I remember the rebellion. Three was one of the first to rebel, and the Capitol punished them greatly. They are very poor, even though they are the technology district. Food is scarce compared to the others from One to Six, and the children often go to bed hungry. I've seen the tributes from previous years. The tributes faces are grey and sunken, devoid of life. Only one had the will to live and go back to Three.

Four is no doubt the most beautiful district. They have fishermen and is the third richest district, only after One and Two. They are Careers, and are usually the lacking of the Career pack. I can tell that it's not the case this year.

Five is a generally rich district. The Capitol gets their power, and Five gives them it. They're not poor, they're generally middle class. They all have food on their tables and such.

Six, my home, is a beautiful place, but we are often overlooked. No one really notices us, because we are the middle. Average, boring Six.

All others from here on are poorer. I close my eye tightly and walk over to the male from Five. He looks around my age and I give him a friendly smile. "Hi, I'm Shannon, from Six," I introduce myself.

He beams back. "It's nice to meet you too Shannon. I'm Watt Emerson, from Five."

I spend most of my time talking to other people, making friends with everyone but the Careers and the boy from Ten and the little girl from Five. The girls from One, Eleven, and Twelve with the little girl from Ten are all lovely. I hope they will do well yet not lose themselves in these games.

By the end of the training day, I am exhausted. I collapsed on my bed as soon as enter my room. The day drained me, and I only talked to people and shot a bit of arrows.

A dry cough makes its way through me, and I cough and cough and cough, tears welling in my vision. I can feel the ghost of his hand, caressing me. I can almost feel his breath, as if he was here with me.

But Lucian has been dead for over two years. And I will soon join him.

* * *

 _Heather Myra, 12_

 _District Five Female Tribute_

* * *

I try and make an effort to smile at everyone I can. I want to make friends because being around people make me feel better. It worked when I was at home, it should work now.

But no one seems to smile back at me. Most people are sad, while others are snobby, like some people at home. The elderly smile at me, but I don't go over. I want to make allies, and maybe I will ally with them, but I want to make friends with people my own age.

My face is red by the end of the day, the blush burning. I make my way over to the know tying station, something Deena had said would turn out useful. I just listen, she knows what to do.

An angry looking boy fumbles with the knot and curses. I bite my lip. My dad uses those words when he's mad. The boy is too. My long, thin fingers work to perfect the knot, something I manage to do surprisingly easy, and I look over to him. "Do you need any help?" I ask quietly.

He looks at me sharply, his eyes shooting me down. A blush spreads across quickly, I feel like I should go. But I don't. "No, not from you," he replies snottily.

I persist and try to help him. "You're doing the knot the wrong way," I say. "You should tie it the other way, not outside in."

He just glares at me, but listens to me. His fingers work clumsily, but surely, fixing the way he ties his knot. He manages to make a pretty decent snare, and looks at me, nodding his head. "Thanks," he mutters. He walks away, but I jog forward to catch him.

I don't know why I did it, but I felt like I should. Like this older boy might help me live. "Wait!" I call, catching my breath. He stops abruptly, turning around. His eyebrows furrow, and his mouth settles in a thin line.

"What?" he snaps. I recoil back, his tone of voice obvious that he was irritated.

"I thought maybe- maybe we could be allies?" I stutter meekly, shrinking down and curling into a ball. I manage a weak smile- I smile at everyone- but he scoffs, crossing his arms. His brown eyes stare daggers into me.

"Be allies with you?" he laughs. "Funny joke. I don't need anyone, I've survived _perfectly fine_ by myself."

I bite my lip angrily, crossing my arms back and jutting my chin up. "You probably won't in the Hunger Games then," I retort sharply. "The Careers are trained to kill. You'll die too soon with that way of thinking."

He rolls his eyes. "And what could you possibly help me with little girl? You're small, tiny, and whiny, you have nothing to offer."

"I do have stuff to offer!" I exclaim, throwing my arms up in the air. "I'm good at running, I can aim pretty well, I can tie snares, that's more than what you could do!"

He steps closer, his breath hot as he narrows his eyes dangerously. "I've lived and survived by myself perfectly fine. I can do much more than that, you have no idea how AI work to survive. You probably haven't even felt a bit of pain."

I open my mouth to tell him that that wasn't true. That I have felt pain. My mom, I never got to know her but everyone always tells me that she was amazing. That she would love me. But I want to know her, I don't want to hear about her. I want to laugh with her, hug her, and tell her I love her. I want a two way conversation with her. I don't want my dad's eyes of regret on Reaping Day, even though that's the day Mom died.

I close it. "You think you work hard and that you're better than me? Prove me wrong then, ally with me. Show me that you're better than me."

"Deal," he snaps sharply, glaring back. "But I don't even know my new ally's name."

"I'm Heather from Five," I say, smiling victoriously. "What's yours?"

"Dennis Herd from Ten."

* * *

 _Shadow Tin, 19_

 _District Twelve Male Tribute_

* * *

The shadow charm feels like it's burning every time I think of home.

No, not the crappy, warm, and sooty home, but with Slatia and Collis. My friends. I miss them a lot, because they were all I have. Correction. I mean, they _are_ all I have. They are not dead. But maybe I will be, in two weeks.

Sweat trickles down my body. I am cold, even though the room must be at least 20 degrees. Nothing can compare to Twelve in the summer, boiling hot and not giving any of us a chance.

The Capitol is nice I guess. Always clean and sleek and shiny, not a speck of dirt on the ground. It's high tech, something we don't have in Twelve. Twelve is hot and dirty and always with coal. The people of the Capitol live without a care in the world. The people of Twelve have their heads down and empty stomachs.

I don't want to be here. I'd rather be anything else than a tribute to the Hunger Games. When I went on the train, I thought that maybe I could jump out and end my life so no one would kill me. But I am scared. My friends could be punished because of that. They've already suffered a lot in their lives, I don't want to hurt them even more.

I head to the healing station, the furthest away from the Careers. The trainer doesn't bother with me; she only mutters 'Stupid Twelve brat." I know that she doesn't want me to win, they never like anyone from Twelve. Only Slatia Burnet, the sole victor of Twelve, but no one else. And look how she's turned out; she's crazy.

There are plastic prosthetics with different scars, burns, and poison marks. There are also sheets to tell you how to heal each one. I look at each and start quickly, trying to finish healing the prosthetic hand in front of me.

People start to make allies; but not me. No one wants to be partners with me. I don't mind though, more supplies for myself, more supplies to allow me to live.

As I work, I wonder if I will have sponsors. They only sponsor the beautiful and Career tributes. I finish in three hours, sweat dripping off my forehead from all of my hard work.

I run my hand over it, but I cut myself. "Ow!" I hiss, holding my hand.

Crimson blood drips from it, covering the entire table and my arms. The cut is very deep, and I wince, putting pressure on it. I quickly grab the disinfectants and clean the cut, then wrapping it with a bandage.

The Gamemakers look over at me disapprovingly. I want to stick my tongue out to them, because so what if they kill me early? My friends are safe, I am a loner. I am okay.

After all, I lost everything. I really don't have anything to live for now.

* * *

 **I'M STILL ALIVE, I SWEAR! Sorry this chapter took so long, my schedule and life just went a little haywire. Man, a lot has happened guys... Anyway, I hope you're enjoying Chosen to Die so far, and remember that if you want your tribute to last longer, you have to review (and not an 'Awesome job!" or "Great chapter!" but an actual review) and pray that you made your tribute fit for survival. If not... well, I'm sorry that you can't change them now. :) I don't know when the next chapter will be, but I can guarantee that this story will be continued. My life is really busy right now, with school and extracurricular, but I will try very hard to get the next chapter out soon. See you guys later! (PS: One hundred drachmas to where you think the name Artemis came from!)**

 _~Ata_


	18. Training Day II- Sweat

_**Training Days: II**_

 _Sweat_

* * *

 _Platinum Worth, 22_

 _District One Male Tribute_

* * *

A life is a fragile thing to play around with.

Someone to do whatever you want with, someone that you can hurt, love, or trust.

At the end, it's all about trust. How much your allies trust you. How easy it will be to betray your allies. How easy it is to give the Capitol what they want. How easy it to kill.

Trust is the most dangerous weapon. It's the one that will hurt you the most.

Allies are people you are with, but not necessarily trust. No, you never trust your allies. After all, they all want to win as well. They all will do what's necessary for themselves to live.

I am not with my allies right now. They are all training at the obstacle course, not my personal favourite, but I am not bad at it. Instead, I am at the poison station. It's not too far from the obstacle course, so if they do notice that I am missing, I can just slip back over to them, without having to cause any trouble.

I don't want to get on any of their radars. Yes, I will still be a star, most of the tributes from One are, but I will not be the one to piss of any allies. Anemone isn't happy with Caydin and Alexis right now, and I will not piss her off. She is smart and deadly. She will kill them for me.

There will be all the time in the world to exploit and kill my allies, but I must bid my time and wait. I can't be the one that they want to kill first, but I don't want to be the one over shone by outsiders. I need to keep a low profile.

Tracker jacker venom is an interesting type of poison. It will give you hallucinations, ones that would terrify you. Ones that would shake you to the core while you cry and scream for mercy. I can hear the screams again.

" _Help! Please, we didn't mean to! We didn't see them, we didn't want to kill them! We didn't want to kill anyone!"_

 _I had only laughed, crossing my arms and throwing my head back. A sneer settled on my features. "Well, they're dead. Are you happy now? Three innocent people gone, and they did nothing to you. See you in hell, you sons of bitches."_

 _Cuts, slices, whimpers, pleas, screams. I drown them all out with my laughs. I have avenged you, Mom, Dad and Silver. I have avenged you. I got rid of the tainted souls._

I make a syringe, inserting the tiny tip of the stinger into in, mixing in water. Soon, the stinger melts, leaving a green liquid. Poison, sure to kill. It never, ever fails. I can imagine Anemone screaming for mercy. I humiliate her. She will know that I am better than her in every single way.

Other ways include nightlock. The juice becomes deadly, once in your bloodstream, it would kill you as soon as it enters. It's not as fun as the tracker jacker venom, but more efficient in ways of killing.

I would have probably use this on Caydin and Alexis. I am not strong enough to kill both of them at the same time, but I would poison them in their sleep. That's for outshining me right now, the 'beautiful' pair from Two.

I would be able to kill Elias easily. He is smaller than me, even by a mere inch, but I am bigger. More muscular, and four years his senior. I could kill him because of all of his experience. He would be an easy target to torture.

 _Blood drips down from their bodies. Their arms are mutilated, you can't even tell that they were once arms. Fingers flung across the floor, foots chopped off. Deep gashes cover the bodies. They are dead._

 _I spit on their bodies. Good riddance._

Harper however, I will have fun with her. She is quite pretty, maybe she could be put in her place like the filthy district rat she is. A huge smirk covers my face, and I laugh. Oh, her screams of terror, her wide violet eyes. Oh how she would scream. I would make her.

I try a few more methods of poison before heading back. Anemone gives me a once over; I know that she knows that I was gone. She doesn't say anything though, just glancing over at me, her blue eyes calculating. Harper and Elias laugh at a joke Elias said, and Alexis smiles briefly.

I catch Caydin's eyes. The gold in them darken, but he gives me a slight nod. I smirk back, my eyes narrowing as he turns his head and catches the district rat's attention again. He may be a worthy opponent, but his affection for the girl, even though she may be pretty, makes him weak. My eyes follow him everywhere.

 _Watch your back._

* * *

 _Sickle Rhoades, 19_

 _District 9 Male Tribute_

* * *

Yesterday was the easy day.

The Gamemakers tend to pay attention to the first day people, looking over _every_ single tribute that day. That's when they judge who they think would be interesting, and who'd be boring bloodbath material, or just boring in general.

I made sure to showcase my skills yesterday; primarily my namesake, sickles. No one was around the sickles, the closest people were the girl group, who were practicing poison and edible plants. The Careers were far away, closer to the Seven girl if anything. Of course they would though, I heard the recaps; she's a victor's daughter.

I follow my eyes to the girl, Willow, who's standing by the knives, away from the Careers for once. I go near her, not saying a word as I pick my knife up and practice throwing it. She just stares; I can feel her eyes drilling into my head. But I don't attempt to talk to her. No, I don't need allies to live. You don't know who to trust in these games.

My throws aren't bad, most of them hit the dummies somewhere, mostly the leg, but at least I'm hitting them. I wonder how Mom is at home. It's around noon right now, the worst of her headaches should be over. I just hope Dad's looking after her. I hope she's fine.

"You should raise your arm a bit higher," a small voice says from behind me. I look back, startled, and the girl from Seven gives me a sheepish look before turning her heel and walking away.

I scratch the back of my head confused, but take her advice anyway. My arm is a bit higher, and indeed, the knife soars higher, hitting the dummies in the chest instead of the leg.

I breathe in relief, but guilt consumes me. I am one step closer to being able to become a murderer.

I try to imagine myself killing someone with a sickle, slicing them in half as one would do with grains. Nausea builds up in my throat as I see the blood dripping out of the corpse, the dead, empty eyes staring back accusingly, like " _You killed me. This is all your fault."_

The Capitol, President Starling in general, is a monster. I can't kill. Even though the Careers seem like they can, I'm pretty sure that they wouldn't be able to actually do it. The very thought of people killing other people for a _sport_ is sick. This isn't a sport, it's manslaughter.

Today is harder, though. Even with my success with knives, I still have a long way to go if I want to live and see my mom again. If I win, I would be able to pay for medicine for my mom, and my dad wouldn't have to work. We'd live much better.

But Rosemary, the Capitol's darling, isn't happy. I've been studying her for the last few days. She's sad, staring out into space. She does always smile, something so unusual it's unsettling.

I studied her old interviews too. Always stiff, always with a smile on her face. The Capitol always talks about her smiles; how beautiful she is when she does, and how she's always happy to be with them.

I make sure to smile in a Capitolite's presence. They smile back, talking about ' _how the people from Nine are not savages this year'_. It makes me sick, but I smile.

Rosemary nods when she sees me do that. She gives me a slight smile, then patiently talks to Kayla. I know that she can't stand Kayla. I can't stand Kayla's blind happiness towards the games. That's probably why she was reaped.

She'll die in the bloodbath.

I think (or hope, if anything) that Rosemary is genuinely trying to help me. I get quiet advice from her, and that's all I need. Rosemary is known for her smile and her quiet strength. If I can try to go with her strategy, I might win.

Edible plants was also Rosemary's strength. I remember her hinting it to me this morning. "Always make sure you have food to eat." I head there next.

I don't do poorly for sure; I work on the fields on Nine, there are bound to have things that may not be so good for you, and some that have medical benefits that are good for my mom. I have a decent amount of knowledge that can help me in the arena, but I could learn more. I have to win for my mom.

I study the booklets and memorize every detail of the edible plants. Which ones can heal you, which ones are filling enough that you don't have to eat too much of them, and which ones are poison.

I cross my fingers and hope that I can win.

Hope is the strongest tool on my belt.

* * *

 _Ashe Ellwood, 20_

 _District Twelve Female Tribute_

* * *

Anywhere but here.

Anastasia's head is high, laughing hysterically with Leona. Blair just watches them and scoffs, going back to shooting arrows. The Careers are huddled together, laughing and beating up dummies. Then there are a few stray people, probably having no idea what is going on. It's all too much for me to take in.

Blair walks up to me with a deadly look on her face. "What are we going to do with them?" She points to Leona, now staring blankly at the floor, and Anastasia shooting arrows into the dummies heads.

"What do you mean?" Blair stares at me, then shakes her head. "Why are you letting them in when we don't need them? Ashe, we would be a great team without them, they're just pulling us down like a dead weight."

I glance at my allies. Leona still seems spaced out, her bow and quiver still tucked on the racks. Anastasia quickly glances in my direction, then goes back to shooting arrows.

I shrug. "I don't know, but Anastasia knows what she's doing, and Leona could last longer if she had a group of allies-"

"Why do we care if she lasts longer? She's gonna die in that arena anyways, she's too young and the Careers are bound to kill her. And don't get me started on Anastasia. She's a little brat, probably gonna kill us once we get into the arena. Why do you trust them, Ashe? Why do you care if they live or not?"

My blood boils. I grit my teeth, balling my hands. It's not safe to make enemies early on. "She's a kid. She's younger than both of us, a baby if anything. _I_ care if she lives. Leona won't last long without us. Do you have no heart?"

I don't mention that Leona reminds me of Shula. I don't mention that she is so much like my baby brother. I miss my family. I miss them so much that my heart aches whenever I think about them. Blair doesn't know how it feels to love someone, to care about someone.

Because if Leona dies, I would feel like Shula's blood is on my hands. That I killed my baby brother.

"Whatever," Blair says, rolling her eyes. "I guess we can let her stay. For now. But once she becomes a liability… we have to cut her out."

"Fine." I roll my eyes. "But Anastasia's staying."

"Why?" Blair asks. "Why do you care so much about these strangers? You don't even know them. One's a little girl, and the other is someone that trains with _Careers_. Traitor blood is in her veins. She'll kill us."

"I could say the same about you," I state. "You barely know me, we just met yesterday. How could I trust you? Why do you care about me?"

"Th- that's different," she stutters. "I have this feeling you know. That I can trust you."

"And I have this feeling with Anastasia and Leona. Why would Anastasia risk getting herself killed as soon as she steps inside the arena if she didn't want to be different from the rest of the girls from One? She's _not a Career_. She may have trained like a Career, but that helps us out. She's the only one that has the closest to a _damn clue_ about what we're going into in four days. I want to go back to my family. Do you want to go back to yours?"

"I have no family." Her voice is soft, her eyes, even though hardened, look softer than before. "My parents are dead. They were killed when I was three for a crime they didn't commit. I'm an orphan."

"Oh," I echo quietly, looking down at the slate grey floor. "My mom- uh, she died when I was eight. Smallpox, wiped out half the district."

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"Well, everything happens for a reason," I shrug, laughing bitterly. "That's why I'm here, and you're here, and why we're all here. Or, more of President Starling's the reason why we're here."

"The president's a crazy bitch," she laughs.

I give her a half smile. "The craziest bitch I've ever seen."

* * *

 _Heather Myra, 12_

 _District 5 Female Tribute_

* * *

Dennis grumbles beside me as he throws the spear miserably on the ground. None of his throws have hit the targets, and he looks awful. I don't attempt throwing the spears; I know that I can't throw them. The spears are too heavy for me to throw, and I can't try to attempt it without embarrassing myself.

"This is a waste a time," he huffs, a string of swear words following it.

"Stop it," I hiss, slapping my hand over his mouth. "We don't need weapons anyway. We need to know how to live. We can do it if we don't stay waiting here. Let's go to the camouflage station instead, to learn how to hide ourselves from the Careers."

"We'll die anyway," he glares down at the floor, stuffing his hands into the lycra jumpsuit. "Let's go to the healing station instead, so if you be stupid and hurt yourself I can help you."

A small, but slow grin creeps its way up my face as I giggle. "I'll be the one healing you. You attract trouble."

He frowns, crossing his arms. "Whatever," he mumbles under his breath. I start to laugh, jogging quickly over to the healing station.

Once again, I prove to be better than Dennis because I'm lithe and agile. My hands also may be a tad bit smaller and more delicate than his. I manage to bandage the broken arm, making a makeship cast and putting a splint.

"This is stupid," Dennis frowns again, putting down his materials in a huff. I go beside him, picking the materials up and giving it back to him.

"Try again," I say firmly. He gives me a curious look, opening his mouth to speak, but I glare at him, silencing him. "We need to learn how to do this." He rolls his eyes, but I tilt his face towards mine. "Please, at least to try and win. I'm not asking for me, I'm asking for you. So you could go home."

Isn't that what we all want? To go home and be free? I miss my dad. I want to be back with Jaime, visiting the nice people in town, looking at my mom's pictures. I want to run down the hill from my house to the flower shop.

(I want to be with my mom and her pink dahlias.)

He sighs, gripping them tightly. "Fine," he says with a resounding groan. "I'll try." A pause follows, but he doesn't move. "For you."

I smile brightly, showing him how to do it. He gets it soon, and we move to healing burns. I hope the arena doesn't include fires, but you never know with the Gamemakers. I hope that I could win. And even if I don't, I hope Dennis would win then.

Watt and an older lady stare at Dennis and me for a brief moment, and I wave over at them, giving them a smile. "I'm fine," I mouth. Watt gives me a cautious stare, before giving me a nod and a warm smile, as does the lady beside him.

A weight lifts off me. I can do this. I can win. Even though I may be the youngest person here, I have a shot of winning, like everyone else. I have a one in twenty four chance, and if school has taught me anything, that means that _everyone_ , no matter where they came from, has a 4 percent chance of making it home.

Dennis is successful at every healing station we hit. I'm happy, and he seems happier than from when I first met him.

The odds may be slim, and we all may be dealt with different sets of cards, but it's how we play them that matters.

And right now, all of my cards are being put into play.

* * *

 _Harper Regalia, 20_

 _District Eight Female Tribute_

* * *

I can feel her eyes bearing into the back of my neck. If looks could kill, I would be dead, six feet under, and still smoking.

Anemone Williams may not be happy with how I got into the Careers, and I don't doubt that she's a force to be reckoned with, but at the end of the day, it's about survival.

(And Caydin. Maybe a bit about Caydin too.)

The Careers, well most of them, are pretty good allies. Alexis is a brilliant ally to have, intelligent, deadly, and amazing with aim. She seems pretty nice for a Career too. Elias is a nice guy, if not a bit of a player. He's a good guy though.

Platinum, though, I can't underestimate. I did my research coming into the games. I know that he killed three people before the games, three years ago. I know that he looks slightly off kilter. I know that he wouldn't hesitate to kill his allies. I'm cautious around him, not being anywhere alone with him. He doesn't talk much, and likes to stray, especially around the poison station.

Anemone is a diva. She can't stand it when people don't do things her way. I've seen her reaping four years ago, when her best friend volunteered for her. Perhaps she considered it 'stealing her spotlight' or whatever. Her best friend _died_ for her, I can see it in her eyes. When she volunteered, she looked at Anemone sadly. And now here she is, letting Wave's sacrifice go to waste just because she couldn't live in Victor's Village.

I don't doubt that she will kill me if she's alone with me. I need to be surrounded by my allies if I want to still be alive with a pulse. She won't give me an easy death. She wants to humiliate me in front of Panem, to regain her 'power'. I can't let her do it. I have to try to win. Not for me, but for the kids back at home. I have to win for them.

Caydin, well, is interesting. He's sweet, scary even sometimes, but I'm not scared of him. Maybe it's my heart speaking, not my brain, but yesterday on the roof was amazing… and all we did was talk about home. He told me about Rhea, his little sister at home in Two, his mother, an amazing lady who despite her proud husband, cared about her son. I told him about my mother and all of the expectation I couldn't live up to, my knives, and Skye. But not the children. I don't know when I can tell him about that yet first, the most personal thing about me.

"Harper?" Alexis says, snapping me out of my daze. I look back at her so quickly I almost had whiplash, but I manage a smile. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I reply sunnily, giving a look at Caydin, who gives me a look of concern before launching back into a conversation with Elias. "I'm just planning, I guess. For the arena."

I can't let her know about the little meetings Caydin and I have on the rooftop at 10:00 pm sharp, when the tributes are supposed to be asleep. I don't think Caydin told her, he swore he wouldn't.

This is an alliance, nothing more. That's what he wants, and that's what I want, right?

"Okay, what do you have in mind?" she asks, tilting her head to the side, giving me a skeptical look. My lying skills, even though they aren't subpar, aren't awful, but she was trained to detect lies.

I shrug, looking down. "Nothing much, but assuming the safest place is the Cornucopia, it would be best to camp there. We have all the supplies then, and a shelter to stay in. Think about it."

She looks thoughtful. "I was right with you. You are smart."

Anemone gives me another glare, but I look up high, trying not to look at her or meet her certainly fiery blue eyes. I bite my lip. "Um, I'm going to the washroom. I'll be right back."

Alexis nods, talking to Anemone, who still glares at me heatedly as I go off. I make it there, slumping against the wall, my hands going through my hair as I take a few deep breaths.

Breathe Harper, breathe. One more day after this, then private sessions, then interviews, then the games. Time's ticking, you need to savour the few days you have left before I get launched into an entirely new game.

I almost don't hear footsteps behind me. _Almost_.

I stand up as I turn around, putting my arms in front of me in case of defense. I crank my right arm just in case, but it's only Caydin, who holds his hands up innocently. "Woah Harper, what's wrong?"

I sigh, slumping back onto the ground. Caydin sits down beside me, putting an arm around me. "Seriously Harp, are you okay? You look really stressed out, do you need a medic? I can tell the group that you're feeling under the weather-"

"I'm fine," I stress weakly. No, they can't know about this. Then they'll doubt Caydin's leadership and the entire alliance will topple. Anemone will enjoy this far too much. If only Caydin was a guy back home, maybe if this wasn't the way it is, we could be friends. But it's not. And only one person can come out alive.

He gives me a look of disbelief, but I stand up, with a few protests from him. "Seriously, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

"Should we not do the roof today then? I'm fine, as long as you get enough sleep." I giggle a bit, he's being so sweet right now, but I can't afford to do any of this.

"We can still do the roof, I'm fine. It's nothing a bit of water can't fix Caydin. I think we should head back now, they'll start to wonder. And they can't know anything Caydin, not right now."

He nods. "Okay," he says with a sigh, "whatever you want."

"This is what you want too, right?" I breathe out. "I thought that was your term at the end of yesterday's training day? Allies, at least. Friends, at most."

"Friends," he firmly states. "We're friends, Harper."

"Friends," I smile tightly. "Let's go though."

I walk back, back to Anemone's glare, Alexis' raised eyebrow and a definite look to Caydin that says _tell me everything_ , Platinum's indifference, and Elias' playful smirk. We get back to training with spears, something I'm decent at, but because they're relatively heavier than knives, the throws are not as powerful or precise. I still hit the targets, but they aren't lodged as deep as one to try to injure.

They all do well with training, but they all have their strengths in certain areas.

Platinum is exceptional at any type of blade, but prefers the spear. I can see it in the way he smirks when picking it up, using it in hand to hand combat, always the first one to the spears. Add a dash of poison and that's his pallet of murder.

Alexis is the best person with aim. She's better at long range weapons, but that doesn't mean she's weak in the close up fights. She's petite, her downfall, but she makes up for it in being fast.

Caydin loves his swords. That's enough said.

Anemone is the best with a heavy axe, surprising but I wouldn't put it above her. The easiest to make a deadly kill with.

Elias is good with everything, specifically a trident. A bit normal and mainstream, but it works for him.

The Careers are strong this year, perhaps the best picks there's been for a long time, but there's no doubt that these games will be the messiest game in a long time.

* * *

 _Ford Denholm, 78_

 _District Six Male Tribute_

* * *

Kiva is all I can think about during training.

I'm worried about her. She hasn't been feeling well the past few days, and I'm not there to help her with everything around the house. I hope Axle is coming to visit her, she's probably lonely and needs someone to talk to, with me and Shannon both being here, in the Capitol, away from her.

I miss her so much, my heart burns every time I think about her. I hope she's okay, getting enough sleep, and having people over to keep her occupied. I want to know so badly that she has a support system back home so when I don't come home, she'll have people with her to help her out.

The weapons put a toll on my body, even though I am a mechanic in Six. I'm old, and looking at the others selected for the game, I know that physically, I cannot outmatch them. The Careers are all young and in their prime time, and the others are pretty physically fit. I don't stand a chance.

Worry flows over me, but I manage a smile, trying to find people to talk to. Unfortunately, or fortunately, people are training at stations. Shannon joins me with another older man, the man from Five.

"Hello Ford," she says softly, giving me a hug. I missed her in the morning, I woke up much later because of the lack of sleep I've got from the past days. She's always out, that's what Kirk says with a scoff as he takes a sip of scotch.

"Shannon," I smile, nodding at the man from Five. He nods back. "How are you today?"

"I'm good today," she replies. "This is Watt Emerson, from Five. Watt, this is Ford Denholm, one of my husband's friends before he passed."

"Pleased to meet you," Watt says, shaking my hand. I smile at him.

"The pleasure's all mine. This is a quite unfortunate circumstance, isn't it? The games altogether, I mean. People having to kill other people for reprimandation," I state, crossing my arms.

Watt nods, but his eyes stay on the little girl from Five, who chats with the boy from Ten. "Yes, remember the old days, from before the games? Panem was an entirely different country, much more peaceful, even with the war. The games just put everyone in solemn silence, they're scared that one thing can kill them."

Shannon nods. "The girl from Five… she's your granddaughter?" I ask.

He shakes his head no. "No Heather, she's a sweet girl, just caught up in this unfortunate circumstance. That's all. People aren't being fair to her, reaping her just to get back at her father."

"A tyrant?" Shannon asks.

"In a way," Watt replies. "She's an angel, her mother died giving birth to her. Kelly was a wonderful woman, everyone in our district loved her. Her daughter is the exact same. She's young and innocent, I'm just trying to look out for her."

"The boy from Ten seems to be," Shannon comments.

I laugh. "Well, at least someone's looking out for little Heather. She needs that, if she wants to come home. I wish she could, she seems like a sweetheart."

Watt looks sad as he takes a seat beside me. "I hope she does. I'd hate for her to be reaped because of her father."

We take seats beside him, watching over the children.

They're all so young; no matter how they got here, they're still kids. If this was the old Panem, before the corrupt presidency, before the games, before the Capitol, they would never have to be this way.

But the old Panem died a long time ago.

* * *

 _Ceemore Miller, 13_

 _District Three Male Tribute_

* * *

"Check out survival stations first. They're the most useful," Techna says while munching on a bagel. I nod, while Ms. Wardong snorts into her coffee.

"What?" Techna asks, putting down her food. "Amy, what's so funny?"

"Oh nothing," Ms. Wardong replies in her normally nasally voice. "Just that you think that Ceebore Miller has a chance of surviving. He's a kid, he'll be roadkill for the others. Me on the other hand…"

Techna looks disgusted at Ms. Wardong. "I was Ceemore's age when I was reaped," she answers patiently, "and as of now, he has more potential to win than you are. I won at thirteen, remember? I watched you yesterday. All you did was sit on your fat ass and do nothing. Now if you excuse Ceemore and I," she gets up, motioning me to do the same, "we're just going over survival strategies. You know, to actually survive."

Ms. Wardong rolls her eyes, flipping Techna off. My eyes widen, but Techna doesn't seem angry. She's more exhausted if anything, and she heads to my room.

The Capitol's much nicer than home, but home in Three, even though we're one of the poorest districts, has a certain charm. The walls at least don't seem untouchable like it could break if I touched it. The walls aren't sleek grey but light green and homey. A home before the war, I guess, and before New Panem.

"You know what to do, right Ceemore?" Techna asks.

I nod. "Stay away from the Careers, memorize everything that's edible and everything that's poisonous, try out knife throwing, and try to make allies if possible," I recite.

Techna smiles. "Good job, Ceemore. Stay away from Eleven though, you're asking for trouble if you go near them."

"Okay," I say.

The elevator ride down is quiet and miserable. The screen in the elevator plays a popular Capitol television show, and then talks about the games. My interest pipes up as they mention each tribute's progress so far.

I have to be careful with the Careers, and pick them off when they're alone. I wouldn't mind sticking a knife in Ms. Wardong if I could… to make up for all the times she made fun of my little sister.

" _You! You retarded child! Stop crying and get out, Ceebore will be out soon!"_

" _Ceemore, when will you come home?"_

" _It's just school Angie, I'll be fine. Love you."_

" _Love you too Ceemore."_

No one calls Angela retarded. She's a really smart kid, and I miss her more and more everyday. I miss Lance too, and Mom and Dad. I hope they're getting on with life back at home. Not that it makes a difference anyway.

If I win, I want to use the money so Mom and Dad will never have to work again. So they'll have time for their kids. Angela deserves to grow up with parents that are with you every step of the way. It's only fair, so she'll turn out better than how Lance and I turned out.

I wish I could tell them I'm sorry. But, it's too late for regrets. I have to use my wits and skills I've learned from hiding from bullies to use.

" _None of them are as smart as you."_

If that's true, then I have to use it to my advantage. I may not be the strongest, fastest, one with the best combat skills, the one with the best aim, but I have my wit. And, as my mother had always said when life at home was easier, " _Brain always defeats brawn."_

No matter what. The smartest way to live is to get them to drop their weapons. Leave them defenseless. Then give them the nightlock juice, which is just mashed up nightlock. I have to be smarter than just giving them plain nightlock. At least most of the tributes must know what nightlock is. I can't be risked with getting killed over a stupid mistake.

The elevator door opens, and the training sigh once again greets me. People are already moving, coming much earlier than I did, but nonetheless, I start to train. The Careers haven't touched the knives yet, so I head there first.

My throws aren't bad, they hit something most of the time. I imagine my target is Ms. Wardong's skull. I hit them deeper when I do.

My only challenge is getting them. The Careers will get most of the knives, if not all… I've seen the girl from Eight. She's got the boy from Two wrapped around her finger, no doubt she'll get the knives. I may have speed, but the Careers, being much taller than me and most likely faster, will get the knives first.

I just need one, then I'll be fine.

I move onto the rope tying station, and start to create a snare that can leave you choking and hanging upside down. Techna's shown me how to do it on the tablet at the apartment. She's drawn out the certain requirements, but I need to figure out how to do it by myself. The trainers don't know to do that; this is something unique.

I manage to find a way with a looser knot, making it in a way that one you step in or on it, the rope will tighten around your ankle, then as you flail, the second rope will fall on your neck and tighten.

Nervously, I go to the weaving station, and start weaving hats. For the sun, of course. By the end of the hour, I can make the hats after twigs, straw, long grass, and of course, fabric. I try to make sure each can be durable under the sun, but can break easily if I throw them at people trying to kill me.

Ms. Wardong tries to come up to me, most likely to annoy me again with her stupidity, but I run away and hide in the poison area in the second floor. She's too lazy to climb up the stairs, most likely.

I try each one of the poison tests, acing each and every one of them. My photographic memory helps me out a lot, with me knowing each type of poison and how it's used. I see the guy from One lurking around the area, and I walk away. I need to stay off their radar.

* * *

 _Leer Golder, 18_

 _District Seven Male Tribute_

* * *

The end is near.

Three days left. Three more nightmares.

I eat the food the Capitol makes me, I wear the clothes the Capitol gives me, but I'll never belong here. My heart, though physically here, is far away. With my family back home.

I hope my brothers have enough to eat. I try to finish everything I put on my plate, but I can't stop Flavio from taking a pill before eating, then puking it up. I can't stop the mentors from favouring Willow. I can't control anything.

Willow is quiet, Anthony is sad, and Birch is neutral. My situation is hopeless with the people not willing to try and help me. I need to go home. I need to win for them.

Hopelessness is my situation. I feel like I'm going to cry, break any moment. But I have to be strong, not for myself, but for my brothers. I don't know how to make allies. My friends at home were pretty easy. I've known them my whole life.

The people here are different and weird. People from all around the country are not the same as the people back at home.

I bite my lip and work towards the axe station. Back at home, that's what I do best. I see Willow talking to the boy from Nine, but I don't attempt to talk to them. She doesn't need allies. Her being a victor's daughter alone will be a target on her back.

I throw the axes, hitting them perfectly. They're lodged in the dummies, but it doesn't give me satisfaction.

It's just a faze. I'll be fine. I bite my lip and cross my fingers, hoping I can do it well. I'm stronger than that. I don't miss home, because I'll see it soon. I chant in my mind and calm down, heading to the weights.

Lugging logs around the district makes it much easier to lift weights.

I throw them and land them perfectly far.

 _I'll be fine_.

* * *

 **I'm alive! I'm once again sorry this took so long, but I was very busy in November. Anyhoo, merry Christmas, and the next chapter will be out soon because it's Christmas break.**

 **Once again, the best way to keep your tribute alive is by reviewing. I have no sleep lost by killing off a very capable character if their submitter doesn't review.**

 **Also, as a mini Christmas gift, you can ask me any three questions in the reviews. I'll answer all except for my favourite tribute and personal questions. The answers will be posted in the next chapter.**

 _~Ata_


	19. Training Day III- Tears

_**Training Days: III**_

 _Tears_

* * *

 _Noah Weaver, 21_

 _District Eight Male Tribute_

* * *

Anger. Red hot burning anger.

I hate her. I hate Harper Regalia, the good for nothing bitch who gets everything handed to her on a silver platter. She's a dumb whore who bats her eyelashes for the boy from Two and spreads her legs for him. You'd think she'd be better than that, coming from a poorer district, but no, she acts like a girl from One.

Ditzy, dumb, and sleeps with people to get her way. I know where she's been going to for the last two days, sneaking to the roof to see the boy from Two. That's a good strategy, it will keep her alive, but I'm pretty sure the girl from Four is jealous enough to want to kill the Two boy's bed warmer.

Of course, she'll have to go through me first. There's nothing more than what I want to have Harper Regalia's pretty little head ran through cleanly with a sword. It's her fault the Careers rejected me.

There are usually six Careers; the pair from One, the pair from Two, and the pair from Four. Since the girl from One was a retard and decided to ditch the Careers, that was my opening. Only, Harper Regalia batted her eyelashes at the boy from Two before I could ask to join.

And trust me, with my strength, knowledge of survival, and thievery skills, I'm much more useful than the district princess and her silly knives. She won't survive a day in the arena without the Careers.

I intend on making sure she doesn't.

I don't need the survival skills, I already know my way with what's edible and not. I've learned how to make traps so I could steal their food. I can make a shelter, just like I made my hut at home.

What's more to know than that?

I pick up the spear, imagining Harper Regalia's face on the head of the dummy. I now feel refreshed, the thought of killing someone sounding content for once. The spear is now lodged in the head of the dummy, falling over from the impact.

I smirk. I can feel the Careers eyes trained on me, knowing I have proven myself in their alliance instead of that bitch. I continue throwing spears at the dummies, imagining every single person that has ever humiliated me dead before my eyes.

The poison station is something I excel at. Being from Eight, I know what to eat, how to make your enemies die within seconds. Soon, the Careers will be coming to me, start begging for my aid in their alliance. I will accept. I will knock out precious Harper Regalia's spot, she will be the first one dead in that arena.

Oh, how much I would love to see that whore Harper Regalia dead on the ground. How I would love to step on her corpse, enjoy watching her pleads for mercy. She will become the laughingstock of the Capitol, once I show her how superior I am compared to her.

Hand to hand combat is something I'm very good at as well. Something about seeing my victim's life leave their eyes makes my blood sing with pleasure. Perhaps I could have some fun with the girls in the Careers, more so the girl from Two. Her iciness and air of perfection and unattainability is something so compelling. I'd love to hear her beg me. The girl from Four would be too easy; more so a whore like Harper, so willing to spread her legs for anyone.

Harper could watch me kill her boyfriend, I'd love to see her colour drain as I choke her. The boy won't stand a chance against me; I've had to hurt people who saw me steal. He's no match for me, I've been living like a fugitive since I was young.

The others would quickly follow suite and die. The boy from Four is most likely as stupid as he looks. All muscle, no brains. A typical Career, nothing special. He'd be very fun to kill.

Maybe I could ally with the boy from One. He understands the way I think, even if he shows that he denies it. Because you can't deny your thoughts and wants, no matter how hard you try. Your lust and hunger for blood can only be hidden for so long, but once you step foot in the arena, your morals are stripped away and the need to survive returns.

The alliances will soon fall, the four girls will soon come apart by itself. Someone will betray the other, I have no doubt. They are self destructive, I have no need to interfere with that.

The little girl and the lackey will die in the bloodbath. She is weak, and if my extensive research has said anything, it's that he has grown fond for her. He is weak. Affection is a weakness. He will die trying to protect her. Having a heart will kill him.

The people without anyone as an ally, I will pick off one by one. The elderly will have to die. I always hated old people. They've lived a better life than I have, they deserve to die.

Why do I feel no remorse? Why don't I feel any sympathy for my victims?

I am a survivor. I've felt pain more than anyone else here. I've suffered and struggled all my life, but I've always come out alive.

Everything I have done _by myself_ has gone my way. I have brains, I have skill, I know how to live through hunger. I am not weak.

Knowledge to build a fire is not necessary. Knowing how to climb a tree is like climbing a building. They send unnecessary skill stations, trying to throw you off of the things that are important.

The art of murder.

I will survive. I am a survivor.

And if there's anything I've learned as a child, it's that I was born to be a king.

* * *

 _Blair Wild, 20_

 _District Eleven Female Tribute_

* * *

I hate how my alliance with Ashe has come to this. I loathe how Anastasia, a _ditz_ from One has gotten in our alliance and is swaying Ashe to side with her. I loathe how little Leona has joined our alliance, almost begging us to fail.

If this was back home, I'd say trim the dead weight off. Drop the little girl and the girl from One. But this isn't home, this is the Capitol. In a life or death situation, you have to work with what's given to you.

I guess that having Anastasia in our alliance is an advantage in some sort. She did train in the Career academy, something we need and we both haven't done. I guess Ashe was trying to have things work to our advantage by allowing her to join our alliance. But is selling my integrity really worth it? A girl from One, the people in the games known for stabbing their allies in the back for more glory, to be the star, to be the creme of the crop. Attention seekers, always in need of the limelight.

Something's just not right in terms of having her in our alliance. I've got a sinking feeling in my stomach every time I look at her.

Leona is going to drag us down.

She's young, dumb, and has no experience. She chokes up on big moments; what makes a survivor is instinct. Ashe and Anastasia coddle her, make sure she's okay. If this was at home, and she was a poor little kid, I would care more. But it's not. This is reality, this is life now. If you have nothing to offer, why are you here? What is your worth?

My stomach turns every time we go back to the poison center. Not because it's hard, no, I've gotten forty two right on the quiz, just tripping up on a few mushrooms. It's okay though, I do really hate mushrooms in the arena. Ashe has gotten a forty four, Anastasia a forty five for some reason (" _I always went outside to explore in One. I've mapped out the entire terrain. It's my favourite place in the world. Plus the academy always made you memorize what can kill you and what can't."_ ), but Leona has gotten a twenty three, barely passing.

It's the third day of training. It's the eighth time in these three days that we've went to this specific station, just to make sure we'll survive in the arena and be prepared for whatever the Gamemakers throw at us. I have improved by more than twenty on the score. Ashe has improved by two, not much but has an extensive knowledge. Anastasia's memorized every single plant possible in the arena, and even if I don't like her, I have to respect the fact that she *could* help us survive in the arena.

Leona has only barely passed.

I finished my test the quickest out of the four of us because I'm pretty good at memorizing things, and I'm quick on my feet. I took a quick glance at Ashe's screen, she was three quarters done, and Anastasia's screen, who was a few questions from being done. But when I looked at Leona's screen, I blanched.

It's not like she's _terrible_ at this type of thing, edible plants that is, she does know what edible, but she doesn't know what's poisonous. The games have different plants from things she might be used to back at home, so it would be much harder here. I know for a fact that the Gamemakers try to trick tributes into eating things that may be edible at home, but absolutely poisonous and can kill you in one bite in the arena. They did that with nightlock, making it closely resemble blueberries, and that's what got a lot of tributes. A lot of people died because of nightlock.

The Capitol loved it, by the way.

I gave up on convincing Ashe to ditch Anastasia and Leona. Her heart may believe in the best of people, the best of them, but I know she's trying to convince herself that she can save Leona, and that Anastasia can help her make sure Leona stays alive. Her heart is in the right place, but in a situation like this, we can't be nice. We can't have a heart. Leona's a lost cause, but Ashe is too stubborn to admit it.

It's either kill or be killed.

"Where do you want to go next?" Anastasia asks. Leona shrugs, looking at Ashe, who looks at me, eyebrows raised.

She's challenging me to sass Anastasia. I purse my lips, not backing down, but not challenging Anastasia. I take the high road, taking the reins of the group. We have no organization. If we're indecisive, we'll never get anything done. "We should got to the obstacle course. That's the best way we can try parkour and get a feel for the arena."

Anastasia nods approvingly. "Good idea. The obstacle course has always been one of my favourites back at the academy."

There are ropes, boulders, trees, and all other things, but the one that got me the most, even more so than rocks, was the large pool of water. There was nowhere around it, nothing. I don't know how to swim, hell, I'd rather climb than swim.

Anastasia went first, doing fairly at each, her Career training coming into use. She does well with the ropes, climbing up them quickly and efficiently. She climbs up the rocks rather easily, probably from her tendency to explore, She's doing well with climbing, and at the end, there's the pool. She shrugs, diving into the pool and swimming across gracefully to the other end. It doesn't make me feel better though, my nerves jumbling up.

Leona goes next, struggling up every that includes upper body. She's slicked with sweat and huffing by the middle, which are the trees. Fear fills her eyes as she starts to climb, struggling to get a proper footing and helping herself up. The trainers and medics are there just in case, and Ashe shivers beside me, clearly concerned. Leona is terrified as she reaches the pool. She struggles to keep her head above the water as she swims, kicking uselessly until Anastasia looks so sick that she dives right back in and wades to the other side with Leona on her back.

"I don't know how to swim," Ashe whispers beside me. "Do you think it's shallow enough for me just to walk across?"

"I don't know," I whisper back, looking worriedly at the glittering pool of blue water, as t taunts me with slight waves. A cold hand grasps my heart with fear, but I stay calm. "I can't swim either. Maybe try to be on your back and paddle across?"

"I'll try," she says, "but yell at Anastasia to come get me if I look like I'm drowning."

"Only if you do the same for me," I smile a bit.

"Deal," she smiles back weakly, looking at the board. "Oh well, I'm up."

"Good luck," I nod. She gives me a weak thumbs up, before heading onto the platform.

She does well with the ropes. She manages to get up quicker than Anastasia, then instead jumping on the logs with water surrounding it, she swings across it. I smirk. She's innovative, something great. She climbs up easily with the boulders, then jogs through the fake forest quickly and easily. She stops dead in her tracks when she reaches the water.

She dips her toe in the water, fear wiping her cold. She gets in slowly, realization and horror spreading over her as she most likely finds out that the pool is really deep. She gets on her back and kicks uselessly across, not drowning completely but getting there.

"Anastasia!" I call desperately, seeing Ashe start to sink under. "Help her!"

Cold horror spreads over her features as she leaves Leona to save my ally, no, _friend_. I can only stand there, scared for her, as I watch Anastasia struggle to get her out, then screeching over a medic to get the water out of Ashe's lungs.

Beads of sweat run down my forehead as I realize that it's my turn. Why did I suggest this again? Why did I do this willingly?

But I get onto the platform and start up, pulling myself up the ropes, getting up with my upper body. My arms are screaming, but I have no energy to get down and go on the logs, so I swing across, hitting a boulder and landing on it. I climb up the mountain, but I'm awful at it, miserably trying to get up without hurting myself. I scrape and cut myself, but I make it up.

The jog through the forest, jumping over branches and twigs is easy yet miserable, as I reach the pool, the water glittering maliciously at me. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then slide right in the pool, and onto my back.

I kick and pull myself over, not letting my brain register the cold and shock of water as my lungs feel like they're being squeezed out. I struggle to get to the other end, and an eternity later, I finally make it to the other side.

I gasp, holding the edge of the pool and breathing in deeply. Ashe weakly grabs my arms and with Anastasia's help, hoists me out. I choke a bit, savoring every last breath.

"You're okay, right?" Ashe asks worriedly.

"Yeah," I gasp, heaving. "I'm fine."

Anastasia still calls the medic over to check on me, but I'm scared.

Three more days. Less than seventy two hours.

That was only a portion of the arena, and I don't think I'll ever be ready.

* * *

 _Elias Bryan, 18_

 _District Four Male Tribute_

* * *

Will this ever pay off? Will all of this suffering finally end? Or will I be stuck in the cycle forever.

I miss Coral. Seeing Mags every day just reminds me of her. I miss her laughs, which are full of snorts and tears of laughter. Her bright green eyes… her curly, long and auburn hair… her smile… just everything about Mags makes me think about her little sister.

My heart aches as I think about my best friend and her smiles and laughs. She would be taunting me right now. " _Come on Elias, get your head in the game! I need you to help me with your stupid crazy fangirls!"_

I heft up the trident in my hand, and start to do hand to hand combat with a trainer. I stab it forward, as if I am stabbing a fish at home. I fight like I'm at home fishing, stabbing at the trainer like he was stabbing fish for Mag's fish shop. Mags likes cod the most, something fleeting in my mind as I fight the trainer.

Sweat beads down my forehead, my hair sticking to my forehead as I stab forward once more, sweeping my leg under the trainer's, making him fall to the ground. I hold his arm over his head brutally, putting him in a choke hold. The sounds he makes as he gurgles and taps the ground three times though… makes me nauseous.

I release him and go back to the Careers with a smirk on my face, hiding my uneasiness. Caydin is flirting with Harper, who giggles nervously. Alexis listens in with a frown of disapproval on her face. Platinum and Anemone are talking to each other, surveying the other tributes. With my ability of reading lips, I can see that they're discussing the victor's daughter. Willow Feyr, daughter of Anthony Feyr, victor of the fourth Hunger Game. His arena was a huge forest, filled with carnivorous plants and animals, with only one type of tree that wouldn't eat or kill you. He won with his extensive knowledge of trees and wits. Anthony Feyr was my favourite victor as a child growing up.

I know why they're discussing Willow. She's the daughter of a victor. She's a potential threat. One of the strongest outliers, if my observations are correct. From what I gathered from Anemone's eyes flickering back and forth from Willow to Harper, she's complaining about why they needed an outlier in the pack, and if there was any outlier to take, we should have taken Willow.

I make sure to be neutral on these opinions. Making a strong opinion on allies, and pissing them off, will not be good for me. I have to remain neutral on everyone.

But sometimes Caydin gets on my nerves. Why does he have to be so damn perfect? All of the girls love him, he is the clear favourite of the games, he's such a one upper. He's nice, sure, and I made sure to have a good ally relationship with him, because he acts as the leader of our Career pack. At least I'm a better swimmer and better at tridents and tying nets.

Harper, the surprise addition to our group, is pretty useful, whether some certain people would like to admit it or not. She's very smart, possibly the smartest person in the games for this year. She's a knockout, and I imagine she and Coral would get along great. She's an ace with knives too, has Caydin wrapped around her finger from what I can tell, and generally gets along with everyone, except Anemone.

Anemone is fine to me. Bloodthirsty, yes, but who isn't at this point? She's well trained, and I've known her for a long time. She's entertaining as well, if you catch my drift. She hates Harper, so I can't talk good about her, but I don't talk bad about her, either.

"We should try to go to the survival stations," I suggest. Anemone snorts from where she is with Platinum, who rolls his eyes and starts to talk to Anemone. Harper nods encouragingly, as well as Caydin, and Alexis shrugs.

"Why do we need survival stations?" Anemone asks. "We'll be doing all of the killing, the games will probably be short."

"I want to throw the tributes off their game," I answer easily, my mouth setting into a smirk, "they'll be so thrown off when we distract them."

I don't tell them that I do want to to learn survival skills just in case. I don't tell them that I want to know how to heal myself and take care of myself if anything were to happen to the Career pack.

Anemone smirks, familiar with the fact that I flirt my way around with other trainees in the academy at home. _Hook, line, sinker._ "Yeah, we should go. Just to let Elias do his job. And, I guess we can learn _somethings_ when we're there."

We head over to the healing station, where the girl from Nine is there, looking things over. The others start to work on it, discussing it over with the trainer. Platinum studies the overview pamphlets on the station while Anemone starts to treat a burnt arm. Alexis, Caydin, and Harper start treating broken bones. I start to treat a broken foot, what the girl from Nine was doing.

"Hey," I whisper at her, catching her attention.

"Hey," she giggles, brushing a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. She's not the prettiest, especially when Alexis, Harper, and Anemone are all gorgeous and I hang out with them as they're my allies. She stares at me with big blue green eyes, her eyelashes fanning above her eyes.

"I'm Elias," I say charmingly, giving her an easy, confident smile. "And you are?"

"Kayla," she giggles again, something common with the girls I did this with. I concentrate on the foot, healing it quickly and splinting it. She's still stuck on it, and I internally roll my eyes.

"Need some help?" I wink. She beams, nodding.

"Yes please," she says breathlessly. I smirk, putting my arms around her and help her splint her foot. She may not be the most attractive, but I imagine it's Coral, helping her skin the fish. Anemone looks over from her burnt arm and winks, mouthing ' _Later.'_

I may be the underdog, but that works in my favor. I'm not golden like Caydin, cunning like Platinum, bloodthirsty like Anemone, brilliant like Harper, or as hardworking and driven as Alexis, but I know how to bend things in my favor.

And that's the way I'm going to see Coral again.

* * *

 _Kayla Nevius, 18_

 _District Nine Female Tribute_

* * *

Once upon a time, if someone had told me that I would get to participate in my dreams, I wouldn't believe them.

Once upon a time, if someone had told me that I would slowly fear the games, I would have laughed in their faces and tell them to see the town's therapist.

But now, here I am. Standing in the training center, surrounded by all other people going into the games with me. Watching the Careers train, slicing dummies in half and stabbing them ruthlessly, I realize that I could be the other person on the end of the blade. I could be the person lying lifelessly because of the Careers.

My nerves are working up, I'm shaking. No one wants to ally with me, looking at me with disgust. Sickle ignores me, pretending not to know me. I don't care. He's not good enough anyway, too snobby for me.

I huff, crossing my arms I as put my head up and walk to the knife place, slinking in the background as I look at some girls training, whom of which I assume to be the girls from One, Ten, Eleven, and Twelve. I don't go over, because they don't seem trustworthy. I don't want someone who'll stab me in the back.

I throw the knife, it just barely sticking in the targets. Rosemary, my idol, has talked to me a bit, but not saying much, prefering to talk to ugh, _Sickle_. What drives me crazy is that my mentor seems to be picking favourites, and that it's boring ass Sickle who she likes more.

 _Sickle_ , who hates the games and has no respect for it. _Sickle_ , who doesn't even attempt to do anything about trying to survive. He riles me up. I hate him. If I was to make a kill in the arena, I'd want to kill him.

Now, I know that they like attractive tributes, and the only really attractive ones are the Careers. I think that I could be up there as well, as long as I try to work on my training skills.

The girls from One, Ten, Eleven, and Twelve leave, to the edible plants station, and I have the knife station all by myself, until the girl from Seven, Willow Feyr, daughter of Anthony Feyr, comes to it.

She doesn't spare me a glance, but I'm internally freaking out. She's a victor's daughter, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I'm such a huge fan of her father, he's my second favourite victor after Rosemary. Okay, maybe my third favourite, but who doesn't like Aeneas Battlesmen?

I grin at her, studying her technique. She's pretty good at throwing knives, not as good as the Careers but pretty talented. It hits the target each time and is near the bullseye. I wish she didn't seem so stoic and icy, or else I'd ask her to be my ally.

She soon goes to the healing station, and I follow her, grinning as she goes to the burnt arm. I copy, but she doesn't seem to notice me or does a pretty good job ignoring me. After a while, she completes each of the healing stations easily before leaving, not sparing me a chance.

I move onto the broken foot before the Careers come.

The Careers are all very strong, all very good looking. The girl from One decided to not join, which seems so _dumb_ of her because who doesn't want to be in the Careers? Instead, the girl from Eight replaces her, which doesn't make sense but she's probably there for a reason. The duo from Two are gorgeous and scary, the boy tall and intimidating and the girl beautiful and brilliant, her eyes glazed over with hard determination. The boy from One is terrifying, I don't like his vibe. The girl from Four is scary, her eyes glazing over everyone with malice, like she's planning how to kill us. I make a mental note to stay away from her.

But the boy from Four is… charming. I rewatched the chariot parade and couldn't help but linger back to him. He was shirtless and gorgeous, none of the other boys at home look anything like him.

So I try to concentrate on fixing the broken foot, and he comes over beside me.

"Hey," he whispers at me. I stare up at him, into his _gorgeous_ emerald green eyes, which are so hypnotic.

"Hey," I giggle nervously, my eyes trained in his. I brush a strand of my hair behind my ear to calm my nerves.

"I'm Elias," he says confidently, his voice suave and smooth. I repress the comment , " _I know_ ," because that was super creepy and I don't want to scare him away.

"Kayla," I giggle again, mentally slapping myself for being so giddy. His eyes train on me for a bit more, before turning away to work on the broken foot.

I take a few more deep breaths before turning back to the foot as well, but I can't seem to concentrate. I steal quick, tiny glances at Elias as he concentrates on the foot. I notice his long, tan nimble fingers, my cheeks turn red as I think of them. His perfectly sculpted body, something the lycra bodysuit seemed to enhance, showing off his perfect muscles and abs. I bite my lip hard, and look down, just as he looks back at me, finished.

"Need some help?" he winks, and I smile at him, actually pushing back my giggles.

"Yes please," I reply, and his arms come around me as he helps me splint the broken foot. I like the way his arms feel around me, the way it makes me feel so giddy. Somehow, I wish I asked to join the Careers, just so I could talk to Elias. His entire body is so warm, such a contrast to mine, and I can't help the blush on my face.

"Thank you," I say when we're done. He winks and heads back to the Careers, the girl from Two giving me a once over before talking to her district partner again, who stares at me before nodding back at her.

I wonder what they were discussing, and why they were looking at me.

But I know that even though I love the games, they scare the hell out of me.

* * *

 _Amy Wardong, 33_

 _District Three Female Tribute_

* * *

They all disgust me. The Capitol is load of crap for sending me into these games. This is all my district's fault.

Me. Why me? I did nothing, I opened their eyes to how much of a failure every child is. How they will never be successful, being stuck in this crappy world. How much they're made of crap.

The games are a load of bullshit.

Techna was a bitch again today. Ugh, I hate her. She's so stupid, favouring Ceemore, who does that bitch think she is? He is such a lost cause, he probably could barely lift up a hammer.

The training area is filled with disgusting little brats. All walking around like they own the place, sticking up their dirty little noses. I would much rather be on level three talking trash about Ceemore and our filthy dumb mentor.

I spot Ceemore at the knot tying station. I smirk, stalking over to him swinging a knife around my finger. That kid is so dumb, probably first to die in that arena. I'll be the one to stick my pencil in his empty skull.

I laugh, my arms clutching my stomach, which is aching for the rich Capitol food. It's just _so good_ , I wish that stupid bitch and her fucking twat of a protegee would just fuck off somewhere, so I could eat and enjoy my breakfasts in peace.

But _no_ , because the asshole child just has to open his fucking trap hole and complain all the time. Seriously, if this was back in the district, I would have beaten him already to get the smartass out of him. That sad, poor pathetic use of a tribute that the backwards harpy wants to mentor. I guess they only let her live because she was probably a whore who spread her legs for the president and his whore wife. Good riddance that he's dead.

"Ceebore," I say, smiling at him. The fucking brat just groans, turning back to his ugly ass failure of a knot. "You know you're doing it wrong, right? Or is it just your brainless skull that's helping you complete whatever the hell that is." I point at his knot, to which he just groans.

"Whatever Ms. Wardong," he replies, his annoying nasally voice still so high pitched, even for his age. Ugh, he's a pussy anyway. I'm making sure he's going to die in the arena. I'll even talk smack about him when I win, and all of those yummy victors can finally see what a _real_ woman is. Not one like the fucking president's hoe bastard child, but a real one, with actual experience. They'll all love me. "I don't care about what you have to say. You're probably going to die in the bloodbath."

"Hey," I snarl, pulling his shoulder back forcefully, listening to it crack a bit. The prick winces a bit, but tries to keep his face neutral. I bet he's going to cry. "You fucking brat, if anyone's going to die in the bloodbath, it's you. And _I'll_ be the one to kill you, just to see you rot in hell. I'll make sure your ugly little crybaby sister will see her big brother just stabbed to death. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Not if I kill you first," he mumbles, glaring at me with his ugly watery green eyes, crossing his not very muscular, slightly chubby arms. "You are a fat, ugly lady who doesn't know how to even run."

I smack him, the sound a loud one. I shake my hand, smirking. His hand goes up to his cheek, and I laugh. "You see that you little brat? I _taught_ you. I know everything about you, your sad, pathetic life. I am ashamed to be the one you call a teacher. Because _I_ am the reason you have a bit of brain cells in that thick skull of yours, _I_ am the reason you will not be last place. But oh, brat, I will kill you. I'll make sure of it. Got it?"

"Techna is my teacher," he shoot back. I punch him in the face, something I do with all of my students back home. It's a way of discipline.

Men in white suits start to pull me from the fucking hick, and I beat their arms furiously. " _I_ am your teacher!" I scream at him. " _I_ am the reason you have gone this far. And get it through your thick fucking skull that _I_ will be the one to kill you!"

The little smug bastard only sighs as I get dragged away.

* * *

 _Watt Emerson, 80_

 _District Five Male Tribute_

* * *

Every day, it's a day closer. Every day, it's a day closer to my imminent doom. But, every day, is a day closer to seeing my girls again.

I have made friends with the elderly tributes. Shannon from Six, a lovely, amazing lady who told her district to vote for her, and Ford, also from Six, who is a nice guy that didn't deserve to be in the games.

I harbor no anger to my district for putting me in the games, and even if what the kids said was right, I am not angry. I am an old man, I've seen Panem before it was like this, I've lived a full life. I'm okay to leave now, knowing that a child didn't have to perish or that a child doesn't have to lose their parent.

Little Heather is off with the boy from Ten, Dennis Herd, from what she was telling Magnet, Deena, and I over dinner on the first night of training. She says that he is a good ally, but I'm still not so sure that he is. I just want her to be in good hands, for her own safety so she could return home.

I know that she is the youngest tribute there is, but I also know that she could live if she really tries. My heart, in it, breaks everytime I look at her. She reminds me a lot of my daughters, especially Spark, who died because of the dead rebellion. Heather is an angel who didn't deserve to be in this mess, just as Spark, Bina, and Vida didn't deserve to die.

Sometimes, in my room, I cry for the people sent to die. But I stay strong, knowing that my death will save another's. And that makes me happy. It brings me joy to know that someone could walk away with their life, and be free of the worry of losing a loved one.

Shannon smiles sadly as she sits down, while I finish the plant identification quiz. My knowledge from the olden days of Panem help me a lot, the Gamemakers taking a lot of ideas from the Dark Days, so I finish the quiz with a perfect score.

I help Shannon up, as we meet Ford at the firebuilding station. The station isn't that hard, I rub the twigs and rocks together to successfully make a fire very quickly.

The stations are tedious but help out immensely, but I feel my muscles become tired as my back starts to ache. I breathe through it, rubbing it as I take a seat beside Shannon in exhaustion. She smiles weakly at me before closing her eyes and takes a quick break. I don't know how much longer I can do this. I don't know how much longer I can take until I break.

But I don't stop, keep on training and training so I can attempt to get a good score in training. So that if anything happens, they could take care of Heather.

Heather is the only thing that really matters at the end of the day.

* * *

 _Dayley "Day" Stockholm, 23_

 _District Eleven Male Tribute_

* * *

Thea's ghost resides around the training center, haunting me. I can see her everywhere, her pretty brown eyes glinting as she shows me around. I can almost hear her whispers, beckoning me, telling me to come forward. I follow Thea. I follow the love of my life.

She guides me to the knife station, her personal favourite. She can't stand seeing blood and death up close, something I can't stand either. Killing someone doesn't sit well in my stomach. It's either that, or the alcohol withdrawal isn't sitting well with me.

I promised Thea that I will try for her. I promise her, that I will not let her name go in vain. It's the least I can do for her, because I was such a poor excuse for a person. It's still my fault, I will never stop blaming myself for her death. She could be here, with me, perhaps my mentor. She would make the days leading up to the arena easier. I miss her.

Blair looks at me in disgust most of the time, scoffing whenever I'm around. Seeder doesn't talk to either of us, or she just doesn't want to talk to Blair when I'm around. I have a feeling she doesn't want to get attached, which is fine. She doesn't owe me anything, even if she is friends with my mother.

I am alone, and I can't really see Thea's ghost as prominently as when I am drunk. Maybe I only drink so I can see her again, talk to her. But my imagination runs as Thea's hand guides mine to a knife.

" _Throw,"_ she says, guiding my arm up. I throw the knife, and it hit the outside ring of the target. I throw it again, Thea whispering encouraging words in my ear, as I launch each knife. They usually hit the target, and her smile is bright.

" _Good job,"_ she states, her soft voice only above a whisper. I head to the sword fighting station next, and start to swing at dummies. My strength is the only thing I've gotten, and I use it to hack away at the target, slicing them in half. Thea giggles, clapping her hands as she whispers encouraging words in my ear. I only smile, wishing that I could feel her one more time.

One more time, that's all I ask.

 _I have nothing left in District Eleven,_ I think as I as keep on swinging at the dummies. No one goes near me, and for that I am thankful. I am grateful that no one wants to talk to me.

Sure, my mother will miss me, and my dad maybe as well, but they'll get over it.

Life goes on and on and on, in a cycle. People come and go, and only get attached to the people they care about. If their purpose is gone, what's there to live for? They have each other, they have people that genuinely enjoy their company. Mom and Dad always wanted more kids besides me, maybe when I'm gone they'll have another and raise that kid right.

Maybe that kid could be everything I wasn't. Generous, smart, friendly, social, and loved by all, like Thea. Maybe one day my parents could tell that kid about the stories of their big brother, how he was selfish and mean and alone, but would love that kid as much as he loved Thea Burton.

Maybe, just _maybe_ , after I'm gone, my district will finally forgive me.

* * *

 _Alexis Penn, 18_

 _District Two Female Tribute_

* * *

The end is near.

All my life led up to this, all my life I've breathed, slept, and ate the games. All my life, I've given everything up, my personal life, the love of my life, my family, and the chance to do anything else, for the games.

If you ask me now, is it worth it? I don't know what to say. Were the sacrifices, Hartley, my entire life, my family, worth the cost of entering the games? Were they worth the risk of still not knowing if end the end, all my hard work is worth it?

I look around, I look around the training center, memorizing the last few hours left in this place, before it's off to the Augustus Silvermoon show and the games. _The games_. I swallow hard, but I don't show fear. I don't trust most of my allies. Anemone is too cocky, too willing to betray us. Platinum is vicious, and I've seen him stray from our group to the poison station more than once. Elias is something else. I know that he is playing his role, his role of a flirt and nothing more, but I can't help but think that there is something sinister under his skin, something he is hiding. Whatever it is, I don't trust them.

Caydin comes up to me, squeezing my shoulder. "Hey," he says softly, as I turn over to him, not being able to reach his golden eyes, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I reply, looking around in the training center one last time, trying to remember the feel of the air, and hopefully have a taste of the arena. "Just taking everything in, one last time."

He frowns, looking over his shoulder, over to Harper who is chatting with Elias. I can see his golden eyebrows meet in concentration, before turning back. I don't miss the way Harper's violet eyes meet his for just a split second before turning away. "You're dancing on the edge," I whisper.

"What?" he asks, running a hand through his hair. "Lex, what do you mean?"

"Harper, whatever this thing that's going on. You're going to have to kill her, or she's going to have to kill you. Only one of us come out alive. Feelings don't help Caydin, they never do. You're just dancing closer to the flames."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Then we wouldn't get so close," he replies softly, making sure not to raise his voice. His tone was everything, though. Sharp and commanding, what the others think him to be. What the Gamemakers _want_ him to be. "Then I would never learn to trust you, to befriend you. Harper isn't serious, trust me. If it's down to you, me, and her, it's her that's going. I'll _never_ turn my back on you. Understand?"

"I'm still not convinced," I shoot back, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows. He groans, pulling me into a hug.

"One clean, simple kill," he murmurs in my ear.

"One clean, simple kill," I whisper back. "I'm just looking out for you, you know."

"I know," he says, anguish in his voice. "You just remind me a lot like her."

* * *

 **First chapter in the new year is done! The training days are finally done! Yay! Okay, so I'm starting another SYOT after this one, called Whispers: The Thirtieth Hunger Game. The Google Form for submissions is on my profile, along with the rules. Also, in order to spice things up, it's not a first come first serve, but it's a you can submit a tribute anytime you want. I'll be posting the first chapter of Whispers after the end of Chosen to Die because of the major spoilers in it.**

 **Also, here are the answers to the questions:**

 **Clover:**

 _ **Are there some tributes** **you don't** **like?**_

 **Every author has tributes that I really don't like as a person, but the ones I despise as a person are also the ones best to write.**

 _ **About how many tributes are going to die in the bloodbath?**_

 **About ten tributes are going to die in the bloodbath. That's an approximate guess, I've already had it planned out, but this is the closest number without giving away some deaths.**

 _ **What mutts are there going to**_ _ **be?**_

 **The mutts are kind of a spoiler for the arena, but some of them include crab muttations, Avoxes, and dog muttations.**

 **MiniMustache:**

 _ **How many tributes do you think will die in the bloodbath?**_

 **About ten tributes will die in the bloodbath.**

 _ **What is the arena going to be like?**_

 **Unfortunately, it's a huge spoiler, but it's going to be something that hits home for all of the tributes... ;)**

 _ **How long do you think the games are going to** **be?**_

 **The games are about two weeks long. At least, that's the plan!**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing the story! It means the world to me. Also, reviews help me keep writing! See you next time for the private sessions!**

 _~Ata_


	20. Private Sessions- The Results are In

**PRIVATE SESSIONS RESULTS**

 **OFFICIAL CAPITOL DOCUMENT**

 **INFORMATION COLLECTED BY CALIGULA NOMAN, HEAD GAMEMAKER 5TH YEAR.**

 **EDITED AND REVISED BY ELYSA VELIA, ASSISTANT GAMEMAKER 3RD YEAR, AND NERO YVETTE, GAMEMAKER 8TH YEAR.**

 **MUST BE DELIVERED IMMEDIATELY TO PRESIDENT LUCIA STARLING AND AUGUSTUS SILVERMOON.**

 **RESULTS CONCLUDED JUNE 28TH, 25 A.R.**

* * *

 **DISTRICT ONE MALE:**

 **NAME:** PLATINUM WORTH

 **AGE:** 22

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** POISON, SWORDS, AND WEIGHTS

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** First, Platinum showed off his impressive sword skills. He first chose to spar with a trainer of the highest level, beating him out in an impressive time of fifty seconds. He then showed off his weight skills, using them to fight dummies as he threw them at them and crushed their skulls with the weight. He then went to the poison section and spent a well good amount of his time making a huge variety of poison, something he seems very skilled at. He then injects them into the holographic dummies, which seemed to 'die' almost immediately. Very impressive.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** He doesn't seem to be very mentally stable. He is very withdrawn from the Careers, straying away to the poison station, which I must say, does pay off. He laughed and had a very crazed look in his eye as he defeated the dummies with the weights and poison. He looked very pleased with the way they screamed, or the wires, were crushed with something almost like pain.

 **ODDS:** 3-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 1st

 **NOTES:** According to the research I made Elysa do, Platinum's family died in a car crash a few years ago. The murderers were three men, who seemed to go missing ten days after the crash. Their bodies were found in a dumpster a day after that, bleeding out, with their eyes wide open as if they were in fear. Many people speculated that Platinum killed the people who killed his family. The sadistic side will be very interesting to see in the arena though, President Starling.

 **SCORE:** 10

* * *

 **DISTRICT ONE FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** ANASTASIA RIPLEY

 **AGE:** 17

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** BOW AND ARROWS, PLANT IDENTIFICATION, SHELTER BUILDING, AND OBSTACLE COURSE

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** As soon as she entered the room, Anastasia headed straight for the bow and arrows. She shot twelve arrows, each hitting the target. Not all of them hit the bullseye, but 8 out of those 12 hit the bullseye. She then headed over to the edible plants station, where she completed the test in 5 minutes, getting a perfect score. She went to build a shelter, one that isn't the best but can withstand a storm, but not a hurricane. It was adequate enough, given she was trained for the academy. To finish it off with eight minutes to go, Anastasia went to the obstacle course. She completed it in six minutes, doing it well and not slipping up.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** While she was completing her private session, Anastasia was very careful in terms of not messing up. She was very particular with what went where and how it was done. I saw her hands shake a bit while she was making a shelter. Perhaps she has anxiety?

 **ODDS:** 12-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 13th

 **NOTES:** Anastasia seems very capable with what she is doing. She's made allies outside the Careers, but with not joining the Careers she put a target on her back. I would have placed her higher if she didn't anger so many people.

 **SCORE:** 8

* * *

 **DISTRICT TWO MALE:**

 **NAME:** CAYDIN ARMON

 **AGE:** 20

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** SWORDS, HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT, AND EXPLOSIVES

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Upon entering the room, Caydin shoots us a charming smile and heads to the sword. He picks the highest level trainer, sparring easily and disarming him in thirty seconds, the quickest I've ever seen a tribute do. He then goes over to the explosives, something that raised many eyebrows among us Gamemakers, and started to make explosives. He then went to the holographic dummies, at which he threw the explosives at and annihilated quickly. The ones that weren't dead he cut down sharply with a sword.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** The way Caydin was holding his sword was more defensively than offensive. Overall, the Golden Boy is pretty clean, except that he has a slightly inflated ego. The ego is the reason why he is placed fourth. The look in his eyes while he fights is quite fierce, that tells us that he's willing to do anything to go home.

 **ODDS:** 3-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 4th

 **NOTES:** The explosives were a nice touch, that's what earned him an eleven. He also introduced an outlier to the Career pack to replace Anastasia, a risky gamble. As well, he's been getting pretty close to Harper. We see you on the rooftop. I'd love to see the way they turn out in the arena.

 **SCORE:** 11

* * *

 **DISTRICT TWO FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** ALEXIS PENN

 **AGE:** 18

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** BOW AND ARROWS AND THROWING KNIVES

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Alexis is an absolute ace with aim. Immediately when she entered the room, she went straight to the bow and arrows, shooting them at the running targets. She's hit all of them in the chest. She avoids the hand to hand combat station, something not typical in a Career, but she is an ace with aim and is generally smaller than most typical Careers so that could be why. She then goes to the throwing knives, once again landing most of them square in the chest. The others missed it barely.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Alexis seems willing to do anything to prove herself. The way she only chose her strengths, which are pretty strong may I add, proves that. She is also a perfectionist, you could see in the way she frowns slightly when the knife barely misses the chest. She is very impressive for her size.

 **ODDS:** 5-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 5th

 **NOTES:** Alexis is a huge fan of the games. She smiled and nodded at the beginning, then asked to shake my hand. I am very flattered by that though.

 **SCORE:** 10

* * *

 **DISTRICT THREE MALE:**

 **NAME:** CEEMORE MILLER

 **AGE:** 13

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** THROWING KNIVES, SNARES AND FIRE BUILDING

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Ceemore went to the throwing knives first, something the other Gamemakers and I slightly chuckled at. He was decent, throwing the knives effortlessly into the target. He hit one in the bullseye, eight that hit the target, and one didn't stick. Pretty decent for his age. He then shows his true talent with snares, creating deadly snares that can easily capture food, or even tributes. He then ends with firebuilding, at which he made a successful fire in three minutes.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Ceemore seems to complain a lot. Looking at him cursing whenever he messes up, you can see that he has a slightly inflated ego and thinks that he is better than he actually is. He also has trouble making allies, because he seems very antisocial.

 **ODDS:** 20-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 18th

 **NOTES:** His snares has a lot of potential in the games. He could get sponsors if he stopped grumbling all of the time.

 **SCORE:** 5

* * *

 **DISTRICT THREE FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** AMY WARDONG

 **AGE:** 33

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** NO SKILLS SHOWN

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** All Amy did in the private sessions was scream at us, the Capitol, that we were a few choice words that we can't repeat on this report. We had to get her escorted out early because of all of the words she shot at us.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She is a poor, fat excuse of a good tribute. I can see why the district voted for her to go into the games. She is very violent with her partner and mentor, super disrespectful. She hit students back at Three as well. We really should check the educators in the district.

 **ODDS:** 48-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 23rd

 **NOTES:** She is an awful woman. I wonder if we can 'accidentally' blow up her mine?

 **SCORE:** 1

* * *

 **DISTRICT FOUR MALE:**

 **NAME:** ELIAS BRYAN

 **AGE:** 18

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** TRIDENT, SWORDS AND HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Elias was very confident as he entered the private sessions. He started with something interesting, a trident. He used them with the holographic dummies, something very common between the Careers this year. He slaughtered them all, very impressive. He then picked up a sword and went hand to hand again the hardest level trainer, and defeated him after a long, hard fought battle.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** He is very flirty, winking at the female Gamemakers (I'm looking at you Elysa!). He is very social as well. I can see that there may be more to him than being a flirt.

 **ODDS:** 6-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 8th

 **NOTES:** He is good looking and charming, definitely going to get sponsors in the arena.

 **SCORE:** 9

* * *

 **DISTRICT FOUR FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** ANEMONE WILLIAMS

 **AGE:** 22

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** AXES, THROWING KNIVES AND OBSTACLE COURSE

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Anemone first started with a heavy battle axe, using that and swinging them at the holographic dummies. She completed the course with drawn out deaths, making sure that she is in the spotlight. Then, she trained her eyes on us and picked up throwing knifes, throwing them in the range. While she wasn't as good as Alexis, she was pretty decent. She finished with the obstacle course, finishing very quickly and elegantly.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She is desperate for attention, making sure the spotlight is always on her. She also likes to draw out deaths, which hints at being a bit off sanity. She is willing to do anything to get to the top, I remember her visiting my room and asking if I wanted to have some 'fun'. I said no, of course, because I value my job immensely.

 **ODDS:** 4-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 3rd

 **NOTES:** She is Teal Waves' daughter, something we should look out for. Also, we could use her willingness to be on top to our advantage.

 **SCORE:** 10

* * *

 **DISTRICT FIVE MALE:**

 **NAME:** WATT EMERSON

 **AGE:** 80

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** PLANT IDENTIFICATION, FIRE STARTING AND HEALING

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** First, Watt showed off his plant identification skills, something he got perfect on. I guess his old age has somewhat given him an advantage. He then started a fire very quickly, quicker than most I've ever seen, again impressive for his age. He ended his session healing a broken arm, creating a makeshift cast.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Clean.

 **ODDS:** 36-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 21st

 **NOTES:** His children all died because of their involvement from the rebellion. Other than that, he's a pretty solid tribute.

 **SCORE:** 5

* * *

 **DISTRICT FIVE FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** HEATHER MYRA

 **AGE:** 12

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** FIRE STARTING, SNARES AND HEALING

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Heather was an absolute angel when she first entered. She asked to shake all of our hands and asked for our names, something very sweet and polite. She then headed off to to the fire starting station, her fire small but it works. She then made a snare, which she completed quickly and efficiently. She ended with healing, healing a broken foot flawlessly. She ended her session saying, "Thank you for your time," and Elysa went down and asked her if she could hug her.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She is very sweet, but very blindly naive. She seems like she doesn't know how the world works, or just doesn't understand why people kill others.

 **ODDS:** 40-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 16th

 **NOTES:** Elysa is crying with the prospect that the girl is going to die in the bloodbath. Other than that, she is a sweet girl who will make most of our viewers cry because she's most likely going to die.

 **SCORE:** 4

* * *

 **DISTRICT SIX MALE:**

 **NAME:** FORD DENHOLM

 **AGE:** 78

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** MECHANICAL SNARES

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Ford immediately walked towards the snare station, although only using the wires. We all thought this was very odd, but after 10 minutes he presented us with what looked like a mechanical snare. He then dropped a piece of metal and it immediately started to shrivel up and close tightly around the object. It all looked very impressive.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Ford is very quiet. We think this is because of his still shocked mind of being reaped.

 **ODDS:** 35-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 20th

 **NOTES:** He only seems to talk to the other elderly tributes, although not talking much. When he finished his session, he responded with a curt nod then walked out. Maybe a talking disorder?

 **SCORE:** 6

* * *

 **DISTRICT SIX FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** SHANNON FARLEY

 **AGE:** 84

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** BOW AND ARROWS AND HEALING

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Shannon seemed to be very calm and polite when entering her session. She greeted us all with a polite, "Hello," then proceeded to her skills. She started with shooting arrows, all but 1 missing the target. She then showed us her survival skills, healing an open cut and creating makeshift leg cast.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Clean.

 **ODDS:** 49-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 19th

 **NOTES:** Shannon asked her District to vote for her in place of a child. We all thought that was very heart wrenching and noble.

 **SCORE:** 3

* * *

 **DISTRICT SEVEN MALE:**

 **NAME:** LEER GOLDER

 **AGE:** 18

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** AXES, SNARES AND OBSTACLE COURSE

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** As soon as he enters the assessment room, Leer immediately starts up. No introduction, just getting straight to the point. He goes to the axes first, something a bit typical for someone from Seven, but he uses his axe extremely well. He defeats all of the holographic dummies with his single axe, something that amazes me. He then starts up with the snares, working quickly as he manages to create two perfect snares. Not bad. He then ends off with the obstacle course, doing pretty well as he is very strong, using mostly his upper body as he is very strong physically.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Leer seems very unshakable emotionally, as you can see he gets straight down to the point, no pauses. With that, he is very efficient and likes to get things down quickly.

 **ODDS:** 14-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 14th

 **NOTES:** He doesn't show that many emotions, but let's see how he cracks in the arena.

 **SCORE:** 7

* * *

 **DISTRICT SEVEN FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** WILLOW FEYR

 **AGE:** 16

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** AXE THROWING AND OBSTACLE COURSE

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Willow was one of the tributes I was looking forward to immensely. Her father, Anthony Feyr, scored a seven as well, but she was very calm and collected. Willow, like her district partner, took up a hatchet, a smaller axe, which was understable because of her small frame. Yes, she is 5'6, but she is quite thin and her frame doesn't show that she is suited for an axe, therefore a hatchet seems suitable. She starts to throw them, and each hatchet sticks in. It's very impressive, she remains impassive throughout the entire session. She then ends with the obstacle course, faltering when the water came, but she managed across.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Willow seems very subdued and withdrawn, like her father. She seems very intelligent as well, but didn't seem to interact with anyone during the three training days except for Sickle Rhoades from District Nine.

 **ODDS:** 11-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 6th

 **NOTES:** I'll make sure to put a set of hatchets in the arena.

 **SCORE:** 7

* * *

 **DISTRICT EIGHT MALE:**

 **NAME:** NOAH WEAVER

 **AGE:** 21

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** SWORDS, HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT, THROWING KNIVES AND OBSTACLE COURSE

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Noah came in with his head high like he owns the world. He went to the hand to hand combat station, picking up a sword, and taking the highest level trainer. After a long, hard, drawn out fight, the trainer eventually wins, and helps Noah up. Noah doesn't take it and kicks the trainer down as he swaggers off to the throwing knives. He isn't the best at them, but he sticks eight out of the ten he threw. He ends with the obstacle course, excelling in that, and walks out without another word.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Noah is a very cocky person. He is very rude, kicking down the trainer when he offered to help Noah up. He was a known criminal back in Eight, stealing from Peacekeepers, so he's already in the bad books. He is very full of himself, as seen in the way he asks to join the Career pack (and gets angry when he gets rejected) as well as his choice of trainer.

 **ODDS:** 13-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 7th

 **NOTES:** He learned most of his skills from thievery. It shows.

 **SCORE:** 8

* * *

 **DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** HARPER REGALIA

 **AGE:** 20

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** THROWING KNIVES

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Harper enchanted most of the Gamemakers with her outstanding beauty. She walks up, starting a station up, and smiles at us. "I know you think you've already seen everything," she states, staring at us straight in the eye as she cranks back a knife and throws it square into the holographic dummy's chest, "but I don't think you've seen just everything yet." She curtsies, throwing two more knives, and then leaves with saying "Thank you for your time,", although she has thirteen minutes left.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She has spunk! Many of our Gamemakers were entranced with her guts, and the fact that she threw the knife straight into the chest, better than Alexis' amazing knife aim, without looking! We gave her a Nine for that. Elysa wanted to give her a ten, or even an eleven, but I told her that it would be too deadly for the girl from Eight to get that score. She will get many sponsors for being gutsy and for the fact that she is amazingly beautiful, if not the most beautiful tribute we've ever had.

 **ODDS:** 8-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 2nd

 **NOTES:** From what we've seen over the past few days, Harper is certainly deserving of her place in the Career pack. She is very intelligent and understands a lot more than even some of her allies. We don't know about how the thing with Caydin will go, but we're willing to see it pan out. It will be good for our Capitol viewers. She is predicted second because of her intelligence and amazing knife skills. Her father apparently taught her how to throw knives. That's quite fitting if you ask me.

 **SCORE:** 9

* * *

 **DISTRICT NINE MALE:**

 **NAME:** SICKLE RHOADES

 **AGE:** 19

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** SICKLES

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Sickle only showcased one skill, which was sickles. He is extremely good at them however, using them as if they were an extension of his arm.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Clean.

 **ODDS:** 19-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 9th

 **NOTES:** His mother is severely injured from the conditions in Nine. Other than that, he's quite boring.

 **SCORE:** 6

* * *

 **DISTRICT NINE FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** KAYLA NEVIUS

 **AGE:** 18

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** OBSTACLE COURSE

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Kayla demonstrated her agility and sleuth throughout her entire session. She immediately began with the obstacle course, going through it somewhat smoothly with occasional trips. It took her 12 minutes to finish the course, having struggled with swimming.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She is very naive, she doesn't quite seem to know what's going on. Her love for the games may backfire, but is refreshing.

 **ODDS:** 20-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 17th

 **NOTES:** Kayla seemed to be extremely enthusiastic about the games, having asked to shake our hands and squealed in delight. Her eyes lit up when she entered, we all thought that was very strange for an outlier.

 **SCORE:** 6

* * *

 **DISTRICT TEN MALE:**

 **NAME:** DENNIS HERD

 **AGE:** 18

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** PLANT IDENTIFICATION, FIRE STARTING AND SHELTER BUILDING

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Dennis was very grouchy as he entered the assessment room. He started with plant identification, doing decently but getting almost half wrong. He then moves to fire starting, where is he successful. He ends with shelter building, at which it is pretty good, and would be able to withstand a thunderstorm.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** He is very selfish and only looks out for himself. His mother died when he was young, and it says here in my files that his own father voted for him to into the games. Ouch.

 **ODDS:** 17-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 10th

 **NOTES:** He has this strange alliance with Heather Myra from Five, but I find that he seems a little less selfish from when he started in the training center. I'd love to see them together if they make it past the bloodbath.

 **SCORE:** 6

* * *

 **DISTRICT TEN FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** LEONA ALLERTON

 **AGE:** 13

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** PLANT IDENTIFICATION AND HEALING

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Leona came in and started to stutter. Elysa, already saddened by Heather, started to cry again, which I found a bit excessive. She tried to do the plant identification, but messed up because she started to get nervous. Poor thing. She then started to try and heal a burnt arm, but ended up doing more harm than good.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Leona is very shy and naive, her stutter certainly showing. She seems to have knowledge of different things, but messes up because she gets nervous.

 **ODDS:** 50-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 24th

 **NOTES:** Leona is in an alliance with Anastasia, Blair, and Ashe, and I know that she is dragging them down.

 **SCORE:** 3

* * *

 **DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE:**

 **NAME:** DAYLEY STOCKHOLM

 **AGE:** 23

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** SWORDS

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Dayley came in stumbling and tired. He went to the swords, but is absolutely miserable as he tries to defeat the holographic dummies. He eventually goes off and shuts off the system, just leaving.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Dayley is a severe alcoholic. We watched him on the train, by the way. He was in love with Thea Burton, a tribute from a few years ago, but she died when no sponsors gave her food to survive. He blames himself severely for the past five years, drinking away. For the last five years, Dayley suffers from severe depression.

 **ODDS:** 19-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 22nd

 **NOTES:** Dayley is going through withdrawal right now, which could be a reason why he performed so poorly. I highly doubt that however. We don't have to do anything to eliminate him. He'll die off on his own.

 **SCORE:** 5

* * *

 **DISTRICT ELEVEN FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** BLAIR WILD

 **AGE:** 20

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** THROWING KNIVES, SPEARS, PLANT IDENTIFICATION AND WEIGHTS

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Blair is very strong minded and goes to the knives first. She throws them, and most of them stick. She only misses one knife, and only barely. She then goes to the spears, and throws them gracefully, each one hitting the target. Blair scores perfectly on plant identification, something we expected from a tribute from Eleven. She ends with weights, crushing the holographic dummies with them.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** She has trouble sleeping, according to the security cameras in her room. As well, she was orphaned at the age of five, because her parents stole from Eleven.

 **ODDS:** 10-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 15th

 **NOTES:** Don't worry, we only gave her an eight because that would plant a bigger target on her back. She already has one from being allies with Anastasia, and now she has quite a high score for an outlier. We don't have to do anything. As well, she and Ashe have this weird but cute thing going on.

 **SCORE:** 8

* * *

 **DISTRICT TWELVE MALE:**

 **NAME:** SHADOW TIN

 **AGE:** 19

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** BOW AND ARROWS AND HEALING

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** Shadow started off his private sessions by shooting arrows. Out of 12, 9 of the arrows stuck a little off from the bullseye while the other 3 did not. He then spent the rest of his time at the healing stations, creating a splint for a broken leg in 5 minutes.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** He seems very creepy, never looking at the cameras and hiding his face. He doesn't show many expressions, other than the permanent glare on his face.

 **ODDS:** 10-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 7th

 **NOTES:** Shadow is one of the stronger outlier tributes and seems to be capable of surviving in the arena.

 **SCORE:** 7

* * *

 **DISTRICT TWELVE FEMALE:**

 **NAME:** ASHE ELLWOOD

 **AGE:** 20

 **SKILLS SHOWN:** THROWING KNIVES

 **ASSESSMENT OF SKILLS:** First, Ashe demonstrated throwing knives, hitting the target every time. She threw fifteen knives, all close to the bullseye but not hitting it. We thought this was very impressive, coming from Twelve. Her training must have paid off.

 **PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:** Like most tributes this year, Ashe is very quiet and closed off. She comes from a big family, having her mother died from smallpox, which has made her very caring. We observed this during the training days, while helping her ally Leona.

 **ODDS:** 18-1

 **PREDICTED PLACEMENT:** 12th

 **NOTES:** Ashe occasionally clashes with fellow ally Blair. Their alliance is very strange, with Anastasia and Leona. We think their alliance may be at risk, but we find Ashe and Blair's fighting _cute._

 **SCORE:** 7

* * *

 **FINAL SCORE REPORT:**

 **1:** Amy Wardong

 **2:**

 **3:** Shannon Farley, Leona Allerton

 **4:** Heather Myra

 **5:** Ceemore Miller, Watt Emerson, Dayley Stockholm

 **6:** Ford Denholm, Sickle Rhoades, Kayla Nevius, Dennis Herd

 **7:** Leer Golder, Willow Feyr, Shadow Tin, Ashe Ellwood

 **8:** Anastasia Ripley, Noah Weaver, Blair Wild

 **9:** Elias Bryan, Harper Regalia

 **10:** Platinum Worth, Alexis Penn, Anemone Williams

 **11:** Caydin Armon

 **12:**

* * *

 **And the results are in! Please remember that if your tributes don't get what you wanted them to get, it's because I thought that this score fits them better. That being said, don't expect that you'll get the place you deemed fit for your tribute in the games. It's how I see they'll make it. Predicted placement is what the _Gamemakers_ think your tribute will get, but not necessarily what your tribute will get. Please remember that. Odds are what the Capitolites bet how long your tribute will live with money, usually a lot of money. No flames or hate if your tribute didn't score as high, and that goes the same for when they're in the games. Please please please remember that.**

 **The format belongs to one of the best SYOT authors I know, paperairline. You should really check her out, she's amazing.**

 **Also, the Whispers tribute submission form is on my profile. I'd appreciate if you could try to submit a tribute. It's not first come first serve, it's a may the best tribute win type of thing.**

 **I tried to get this chapter out before school starts tomorrow, I hope you liked it. As always, review if you want your tribute to live longer and to show some support, they help me keep on writing! There are three chapters until the games, I hope you can stick with me til then!**

 _~Ata_


	21. Interviews- Lights, Camera, Action

_**Interviews**_

 _Lights, Camera, Action_

* * *

 _Ford Denholm, 78_

 _District Six Male Tribute_

* * *

My time preparing for the interview is filled with people fluttering around, doing my outfit. I stay still, not wanting to get in the middle of a busy person in the Capitol. If I ever want to see my family again, which I know isn't likely, I will have to be on their good side. Getting in the way for something as important to them as outfits and appearance is not wise.

"He looks too wrinkly!" One stylist complains, moving quickly back and forth as she groans, powdering more things to my face. I keep my face neutral, trying to not move so she could be done. Not that I don't mind letting others put makeup on my face, it's just that the amount they cake on is unnecessary. I stay still as she brushes the brush over my face.

Shannon sits beside me, chatting to Watt who smiles and laughs deeply. I itch to move, but don't, as the stylist bites her lip and combs my hair. She eventually finishes, and I get out, stretching my limbs.

"Hello Shannon, you look lovely," I compliment. She looked as if she was younger again, when she and Lucian moved into the neighbourhood all those years ago. She was wearing a lovely black dress with a bit of lace on it.

She smiles back, her blue eyes crinkling around the corners and she looks down sadly at her wedding ring, twisting it. "Thank you, it looks a bit like the dress I wore when we first moved in, I guess. All those years ago, and now we're here. How time has changed."

"I guess so," I reply, thinking back to Kiva's wide eyes and beautiful smile. I remember her laughs and her cries, every detail about her. How the last time I ever see her was on my death sentence, how it was not the way I'd expect to see her last. Kiva's sobs were the last things I remember seeing her, and I'll never see her again.

Water fills my eyes as I remember my wife, whom I will never see again, or my son and my grandson. This life… it's too short, but I have lived my life. "Kiva would think you look handsome," Shannon comments, brushing a strand of her long white hair behind her ear, biting her lip. "She had always raved about how handsome you were when you fixed the hovercrafts… as well as when she complained about Axle running around all over the place."

She laughs, one that's wet and close to a sob. I don't think I'll ever be ready for it. For death. "He was always a troublemaker, wasn't he?" I ask. "Such a pain in the arse, and yet you managed to raise three kids… that I'll never know how."

"It's easy when you have a good person to help you," she whispers, eyes filling with tears as she quickly takes a tissue and dabs her eyes, careful not to mess up the stylist's careful work. "Of course, now he's gone, and I have no one…" She trails off, and I pull her into a hug. She doesn't cry, doesn't want the stylist to be upset, but instead just sighs and breathes heavily, calming herself down.

"I'll see him again," she insists, and I looked at her. Her eyes are now determined. "I love him, I'll see him again. That's why I'm here. To make sure another child won't die at the hand of these people, whether they're good or bad. I'm here to make sure no one else dies."

And that's when it hits me. The fact that I'm here. It's not because of any animosity between me and anyone else, it's for the children. I've lived a long life, I guess it's time to truly accept that. "You'll be amazing Shannon, I know you'll be."

She smiles, hugging me tightly once more before the stage crew pulls us to stand in line. I get behind her, as she starts talking to little Heather from Five and Watt. She seems so happy with them, I know she wants Heather to live.

I stare off into space with a smile on my face, thinking about Kiva and her beautiful laugh, as the Capitol starts to cheer.

The interviews have started.

* * *

 _Anastasia Ripley, 17_

 _District One Female Tribute_

* * *

Looking into the mirror, looking at my face, I've never felt so fake. I am dressed up in a way a typical One girl would, heavy makeup, styled hair with thick, heavy waves, and a pretty gown. I guess I look pretty, but I don't feel pretty. People say I'm pretty, but I've never felt further from myself. Like I'm betraying myself. Like I'm plastic.

Sure, I won't be pretty in two days, blood, cuts, scrapes, and crimson sure don't look good on me, but it doesn't mean I'd rather look like that than what I look like right now. Plastic isn't a good look for me.

My stylist fusses over my hair, cooing over how beautiful I look, and I smile tensely. My score, a mere eight, is certainly disappointing for a girl from One. I'm supposed to score a nine at least, but instead, I score an eight. What did I do wrong?

"You look gorgeous," my stylist, Felicity, beams, smoothing over my dress once more. "Like a true One girl. The Capitol will love you."

"It's all thanks to you," I smile tightly. "I've always dreamed of being a star."

"And you will be!" Felicity says, putting my face in her hands. "Anastasia, darling, you're going to be amazing! Just be yourself, the Capitol will eat you up! We all love you, you'll do great."

 _Be yourself_. Something I struggled with over the course of the games. My decision to not join the Careers, no matter how much safer it is for me, isn't easy. I know that Blair doesn't like me. I know that she doesn't trust me. But I can't choose my district, I can't choose the fact that I am a girl from District One. I can't choose the fact that I look like a typical girl from One now. In the outfit, I know that most people at home won't recognize me.

"Thank you Felicity," I say quietly. "I should take some time for myself, my interview is starting soon."

She kisses both of my cheeks, saying a quick ' _good luck!'_ , before she flutters off to the audience. I breathe in deeply, smoothing down my dress.

My dress is something I've never quite imagined that I would wear. It's long, shimmery and light gold, tight around my middle and draping loosely past my hips. It drops a bit low, showing what little cleavage I have, with a corset pushing it up, and a high slit. My straight, auburn hair is in thick waves, with ounces of hair spray to keep it like that. A bit of golden glitter shines in my hair, with golden makeup and pink lipstick. Very high high heels, gold with heels skinnier than a small twig, that make my feet ache. I feel dramatic. I feel like a girl who people want there to sit still and look pretty. I certainly can't go and explore in this.

"Hey Anastasia." I turn around quickly towards the voice, almost tripping in my heels. Arms reach out and help me steady myself.

"Thank you," I breathe out, looking up at who helped me. Ashe stands there, looking great in a sleeveless, floor length black dress, with gems sewed into the skirt. She looks like she's turning into a diamond, beautiful and shiny. "You look great."

"So do you!" she laughs, brushing a strand of her curly brown hair behind her ear, "you look like a golden girl. Literally. Those heels are really high, though."

"Yeah, you're really lucky that you get flats. I'd kill for them right now," I say, a smile spreading on my face. Behind me, I can see Blair frowning at Ashe and I. She looks unhappy that Ashe is talking to me, something that's been a thing for the past few days. She's weirdly possessive of Ashe, if I must say.

"Woah woah woah, save that for the arena!" she exclaims, careful not to mess up her hair as she laughs.

"Yeah," I say, as I quiet down. Someone in black taps my shoulder. "Yes?"

"Your interview is in two minutes Anastasia," the person says. I can't tell if it's a boy or girl. "Get ready, Augustus is almost done."

"Good luck out there," Ashe says once the stage crew leaves. "You'll do great."

"Thanks," I reply, smiling widely. "You'll do great too."

The interviews mean everything in the games. Back in the academy, it's what they say is the most important thing besides killing. It's what gets you sponsors, what sets the tone for your games. And right now, as the girl from One, I'll be the one setting the tone for the interviews. It's all up to me.

They put us in interview situations, set us up with questions, and told us what to say. What our angle is. It's always sexy, the girls from One are always sexy and seductive and a star. I can follow that path, but I don't want to. I want to be myself.

The Augustus Silvermoon Show theme is one every Capitolite (and most of the people in the districts) know note by note. Augustus is so good that he hosts the Hunger Games, but has his own very successful talk show alongside this. Everyone who is _something_ is on this show; actors, models, politicians, socialites, victors… if they're someone, they'll eventually find themselves sitting across from Augustus Silvermoon, in the nice white chairs, in front of the entire nation of Panem.

And Augustus Silvermoon is the host for the Hunger Games because he's simply the best at what he does. Charismatic, charming, the list goes on. He makes the nervous relax and the shy come out of their small shells. He always puts tributes in a positive light, playing up their strengths, putting the spotlight only on them, or only glossing over or completely downplaying their weaknesses. He puts _confidence_ in the beat down, he gives a sense of _peace_ to the ones who are terrified. If they're funny, he'd make them funnier. If they were witty, he'd banter back and forth with them. If they were sweet, he makes sure to ask about things that make them seem so pure. But there's nowhere else that Augustus Silvermoon will shine more than that of his performance in the Hunger Games.

Some people may not realize it, but what you do on the show, what image you project yourself in, is what the audience will see you as. If you get the sympathy or support from the crowd, you'll get sponsors. It's important to get the audience to like you, whether you're sexy or ruthless or sweet… **the Capitol must like you**. You have to manipulate who you are into what you want them to think you'd be. You have to create a personality.

That's what this all is. This is what the Games are. A television show for the Capitolites, something for their entertainment. It's a reality television show where you can vote for who you want to win, who you don't mind disposing of, and who you really want to kill. Because everything we do is for the Capitol's entertainment.

"Let's see if she's really as mysterious as she looks, the incredible _Ms. Anastasia Ripley!_ " Things take me back to reality, as I realize that it's my turn. It's time for me to shine, to do what I was trained to do. Sure, what I'm wearing isn't really helping me, but I can work with it. Augustus' smile is infectious, and I smile and wave at the crowd, who goes crazy. "It's so nice to meet you. I must say, I adored you in the chariot rides. A golden goddess, come down to bless us all with herself. You really have come as a golden queen now. You look absolutely stunning Anastasia."

"Thank you Augustus," I reply, biting my lip, before spreading it into a soft smile. "You really do have to thank my stylist Felicity though. She is the brains of my appearance, I really couldn't do anything like this without her."

"Well, your stylist is certainly a genius!" I smile, giving Felicity a wink when I spot her in the crowd. She mouths ' _thank you'_ repeatedly, blowing kisses. "But I must say, your eight is quite impressive. What's your secret?"

"Now now now," I tsk, my mouth settling into an uncomfortable smirk, "if I told you now, that would give away all of my tricks in the arena!"

"Ah, the arena! How are you enjoying the Capitol so far, Anastasia?"

"It's certainly much better than One, more place to explore and learn. Especially the people here, they're all some of the most amazing people you could ever meet!" I feel so fake, but I want to go home and ask Lust why the _hell_ he kissed me. This is the only way to go. I drop my voice to a whisper. "But do you want to know a secret?"

Augustus leans in, fake whispering. "Yes?"

"The mountains in the Capitol aren't as amazing as the ones in One," I fake whisper. Augustus laughs, as well as many of the citizens. The others smile, and I feel successful.

"Well, of course not! One has some of the most beautiful sceneries in Panem! But, unfortunately, our time is up. I'll certainly be excited to see you in the games, Anastasia!" The Capitol cheers to that, and I throw a smile and a kiss to the camera for my parents, walking as confidently as I could off the stage.

Shimmer tells me I did well when I got off. She's probably happy that I didn't totally flunk my academy training.

I do feel like I betrayed myself.

* * *

 _Amy Wardong, 33_

 _District 3 Female Tribute_

The corset around my waist hurts like a motherfucker. I don't understand why I have to wear it, though. I am way more gorgeous than all of the other tributes. My outfit is one a star would wear, just like what I am. I am in a green dress, and my luscious red hair flows behind my back.

The yummy boy from Two is just finishing up his interview. Many people are fawning over him, but I know that I am better. They have to wait and see. I'll blow them away for sure.

Ceebore is behind me, pouting off like the stupid brat he is. "Listen," I snarl, yanking a bit of his gelled hair back. "You're going to do shit, so you don't even have to do the interview. We all know that you're a failure to the district."

The fucking son of a bitch rolls his eyes, scoffing. "Yeah, right. At least I'm not going to embarrass myself in front of the Capitol. You think that because you're a teacher you're all that? Yeah no. You were a terrible teacher and an even worse person. The Capitol is going to hate you."

"Yeah right. They'll love me. The district voted for me because they knew that I was bound to be a star," I flip my hair back, showing that I am a true beauty and star. "You're lucky that you are my partner. When you're dead, they'll remember you as _Amy Wardong's sad pathetic excuse of a partner_. At least you'll be remembered a brat."

The retarded prick laughs. "If you really think that, you're even crazier than I thought." He starts to turn around, but I grab his shoulder tightly, forcing him to stay.

"Look here brat," I hiss, digging my sharp fingernails into his shoulder. "You're going to die, okay? I'd say see you in hell, but I'm going to heaven."

"I bet Satan is even disgusted by you," he retorts. I get my hand up, ready to slap him, but Peacekeepers hold me back.

"It's your turn now Amy," one of them say with a roll of their eyes.

I walk up confidently, Augustus smiling at me. "It's so nice to see you in the Capitol Amy. How are you enjoying it here?"

My face twists into a gorgeous frown. I am here because of the shitty Capitol. This is all of their fault. "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT THAT I AM HERE!" I scream, flinging my arms, trying to hit Augustus. "JUST BECAUSE THE PRESIDENT IS A SELFISH BITCH WHO CAN'T GET OVER ANYTHING! SHE ISN'T FIT TO BE A PRESIDENT! HER DAUGHTER IS UGLY AND DOESN'T DESERVE ANY LUXURY!"

"Erm," Augustus says, inching away from me. "Amy, what do you mean by that?"

"THE CAPITOL PEOPLE ARE A BUNCH OF FREAKS! YOUR FASHION IS TRASH! YOU ARE ALL TRASH! ACTING LIKE YOU ARE BETTER THAN ME, WELL LISTEN UP! I AM BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU FILTHY ANIMALS! _I_ AM YOUR SUPERIOR! AND ANYONE THAT SAYS OTHERWISE IS _WRONG_! BECAUSE I AM NOT FULL OF CRAP AS YOU ARE! I AM A NORMAL, HAPPY PERSON UNTIL YOU GUYS HAD TO PUT ME IN THE HUNGER GAMES! I HOPE YOU ALL ROT IN HELL!"

The Capitol is booing, and I flip them off, kicking Augustus, who has the audacity to _laugh_ , and storm of the stage.

As soon as I get off, Peacekeepers swarm me, taking me all the way back into my room on my floor and locking me in it. I roll my eyes. "Alright you motherfuckers!" I yell at them, banging on my door. "You can hide me all you want, but when I am victor, I am above all of you! I'll make sure to kill you all when I get out of the arena!"

They only laugh, saying some muffled things like, ' _crazy bitch'_ , and ' _what's wrong with her?'_. I scream and swear, thumping onto my head in anger.

This is all their fault. This is the Capitol's fault.

* * *

 _Elias Bryan, 18_

 _District Four Male Tribute_

* * *

After the crazy bitch from Three's performance, I don't think anyone could outdo her. I watched and studied my allies' interviews. Platinum left the crowd wanting more with his vagueness on how he got his ten, and how he was the 'one to beat'. He ended with a smirk to the crowd and a wink at Elysa Velia, the Assistant Gamemaker.

Alexis played the fierce card, showing that she was a force to be reckoned with, even if she was a very short girl. She made jokes that made the crowd roar with laughter, giggling along, and then played their heartstrings when she talked about wanting to make her district proud. But she made every Capitol man and woman coo with sadness when she mentioned wanting to go home to her boyfriend, Hartley, and that all she wants more than anything is to see him again. Augustus shed a few tears. She was smart.

Caydin, of course, played the role of the favourite. All natural jokes, making a few comments about how he got his eleven, but not saying much. He complimented the Capitol on how beautiful all of the ladies were, which also made me snort have I not flirted as well. He talks briefly about district pride, like Alexis, and also talked about Alexis. " _She's like my favourite sword. Reliable and deadly,"_ which earned a lot of 'aws' and cheers. He ended his interview with a " _This is all for you, Rhea,"_ which I have no idea who the hell that person is, or why she should matter.

All that matters is that Alexis and Caydin are the golden duo. I have to beat them for sponsors. Platinum as well, but hell, the guy's a ticking time bomb, you don't know when the guy's craziness is going to catch up with him. I have to play it thick.

Anemone is on now, talking about (not happily, may I add), her old best friend, Waves, who volunteered for her in the games. She said that she was proud of Waves for making it so far, but that she will take revenge for her death. That the people who killed Waves, their district, better watch their backs, they'll best find a knife in it.

"Very noble, Anemone," Augustus says, taking a tissue and dabbing his eyes. "Waves' memory shall not go in vain."

"No, never," Anemone agrees, shifting her weight to show more of her cleavage, tossing her golden hair back. "District Ten, Eleven, and Twelve will pay for her death in blood. She could have won! But instead, she died a pitiful death, with no honor in her name."

The Capitol cheers at Ten, Eleven, and Twelve's death sentence, while I take a look behind me. The little girl from Ten is shaking, the boy from Ten is yawning, the girl from Eleven rolls her eyes, the boy from Eleven looks dead, the girl from Twelve bites her lip, and the boy from Twelve looks fearful. Good enough, I guess.

"But I'll promise you a show, everyone," Anemone whispers, biting her lip and twirling a strand of her hair. "I'll promise you a ride, something you'll never forget. The games will _never_ be boring when I'm around. I'll get your hearts thumping, blood pumping, adrenaline running through your veins…" her voice becomes throaty, like she's in the bedroom. "I'll be so bad it's good."

The Capitol erupts in cheers, while I blink. Okay, sex on a platter. That's one way to do it. Augustus smiles merrily, but I can see the slightest bit of hesitation as he flicks a quick glance at the clock. "We know we'll have a fun time with you!" he exclaims, smiling. Anemone giggles, smiling. "Miss Anemone Williams everyone!"

The crowd is loud, and her smile becomes a smirk as she struts off. "Later," she whispers in my ear.

Oh well, let's see how this interview goes.

It's my cue to go, and I put a smile on my face as I walk confidently up on the stage. "Mr. Elias Bryan! It's so nice to finally meet you," Augustus exclaims, putting a hand in front. I shake it, making sure the grip is firm as I keep my smile steady, making sure it doesn't become a smirk.

"It's nice to meet you too, Augustus," I reply smoothly, relaxing in my chair while facing Augustus (it's all about the interviews after all). "I've been waiting to be on this stage since I was a little kid. I've practiced saying _I volunteer as tribute_ since I was a little boy."

"Well, then, I'm glad that your district chose you! You're very popular here in the Capitol, isn't that right everyone?" the crowd cheers, some women sending me looks. I wink and smirk at them. "But, why do you think your district chose you?"

"It's really simple if anything," I state. "I'm just the best."

The Capitol cheers again, and some ladies throw flowers. I catch a few, sending a few more winks before turning back. "You certainly are," Augustus says. "We all loved you at the chariot parade! Wow, you looked amazing!"

The large TV shows a clip of me at the chariot parade. I smirk at the crowd as Anemone smiles and waves, but a hint of a smirk in evident on her face.

"It was all my stylist," I claim, because you have to always credit your stylist with style options. "But you do need to be good looking and in shape as well to pull it off."

"Thank god we have you! What's your favourite thing in the Capitol so far, Elias?"

I pretend to think about it, but I know what the only right answer is. "Hm, I don't know Augustus. There are so many amazing things to see in the Capitol, but I guess I'll have to explore it all when I'm victor." More cheers and catcalls from the audience. "The thing I love most in the Capitol are the people, especially the ladies!"

Some blow kisses, while others faint at the sight. I know I am doing well, playing the audience as I am doing what I was grooming for my whole life. I enjoy the attention, as Augustus laughs as well. "We do have very gorgeous women here in the Capitol. I bet _anyone_ would want to be yours."

"And I would be glad to have any of them," I proclaim proudly. "So when I'm victor, I'll visit you, just give me a call!"

Ladies wink at me, and I wink back at them. Augustus smiles, laughing again. "We'll love to see you again, Elias, but unfortunately our time is up. I'll love to see you in the games!"

"And I'll see you again when I'm crowned victor," I promise, as I walk off the stage, throwing one last wink at the excited crowd.

Not bad for two minutes.

* * *

 _Heather Myra, 12_

 _District Five Female Tribute_

* * *

Watt had closed my eyes for the portion of some of the interviews, mainly the people from Four's. He also had Shannon cover my ears, so I knew when it was my turn. There are a lot of cheers happening, so I think the boy from Four is pretty popular. He reminds me of one of those action stars, kinda cute in a way. Of course, I can't say that. I'm only twelve, and everyone still sees me as a baby. I am a baby compared to these people.

My eyes are finally doing their job as Watt takes his hands off them. "It's not that I don't want you to see them," he says, as he and Shannon fix my hair and dress, "it's just that I don't want you to see how the people dress. It's very inappropriate, especially for your age."

"Okay!" I chirp. Watt smiles, pulling me into a hug, and kisses me on the forehead.

"You'll do great sweetie," he smiles sadly, "I know you will. Just be yourself."

I smile and hug him back. "I'll do my best. I'll try super hard! Thank you."

He smiles, and Shannon pulls me into a hug and tells me 'Good luck'. I wonder if I had grandparents, would they be like Watt and Shannon? Would they be caring and nice, always looking out for me? I know that my daddy loves me, but Watt and Shannon paid more attention to me over the past week than Daddy has for the last month. I know that he's busy… it's just that sometimes I wish he'd spend more time with me.

Oh well, it's not the time to think about this. I take a deep breath, fiddling with my fingers, before the nice Gamemaker who asked to hug me comes up beside me. "Hi darling," she coos. "You look gorgeous right now, so beautiful. You're going to do great."

"Thank you," I say, smiling. "I really hope I will."

Tears well up in her eyes, as she starts to cry. I stand there, awkwardly, as I don't know what to do. I just go to hug her, and she starts to cry loudly. "There there," I soothe awkwardly, trying to do what Watt did for me when I had a nightmare a few nights ago.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry," she says, straightening herself up. "Well, darling, it's time for you to do your interview now. Remember to take the stairs on the right to get off, and only when Augustus tells you to. You're going to be amazing."

"Thanks!" I say, skipping up the stairs. My dress is really pretty, it's a white dress that goes up to my knees, and I feel like an angel in it. Dennis always says I'm like an angel, always there for him. I don't get what he means, but I think it's a good thing. Scratch that. I know it's a good thing. My hair is in a pretty wispy bun, one I see celebrities wear. A flower crown in on my hair

I feel like an angel princess in this. I hope this feeling never ends.

"Hi Heather!" Augustus exclaims, pulling me into a hug. I return the hug. "I'm so excited to finally meet you! How are you?"

"I'm great!" my voice comes out like a giggle, and I giggle again. I just feel so happy. "How are you?"

"I'm just amazing tonight. I love your outfit, especially your crown. It's really pretty!" I smile, touching my crown gently and loving the pretty pink and yellows in it.

"Thank you!" I smile. "I really liked it too. I feel like a princess in it."

"And you are!" he exclaims. "You're also an absolute angel, Heather. I bet you have a lot of friends here. Who are some of them?"

"Dennis definitely," I giggle, looking over at the stands. He gives me a smile and a brief wave, and on the screen, it shows him doing that. "He's really nice to me. Also Watt and Shannon, they're like my grandparents."

A lot of people in the crowd 'aw' at the statement, and I smile at them. They all are really nice, and Augustus starts to cry, wiping his eyes. I offer him a soft pink handkerchief, and the crowd starts to 'aw' again. "Oh thank you Heather," he sniffles. "What's your one thing you want to go home to?"

I know there is Jaime, but I want to see my daddy again. I want to see him and the photo album of my mom. "My dad, definitely," I say, and the audience members clasp their hands together. "He'll be all alone right now, with my mom gone. I don't want him to ever be alone."

Augustus gives a huge sob into the handkerchief, and then dries his eyes. They aren't red. "Well, Heather, our time is up, but I hope you can see your dad again." He gives me a huge hug, and the audience erupts in cheers.

I hope I can see him again too.

* * *

 _Willow Feyr, 16_

 _District Seven Female Tribute_

* * *

Nerves wracked my body, I can't move.

My dad's arms are around me as we stand in the middle, him rubbing my hair and telling me that it'll be alright. That I'll do great. But will I? I'm so nervous… sure I scored well in the private sessions, a seven like my dad, like my district, like my favourite number, but now it's time to be social and lovable and friendly. I'm not sure I can do that. I think I'm friendly? I'm not too sure, all I know is that this is really important. That the interviews are what sets the tone for you in the games.

Dad kisses me on the forehead and brushes a loose strand of my curled hair behind my ear. He smiles softly, holding me as the girl from Four, Anemone Williams, I think, daughter of Teal Waves, is finishing her interview. I can tell many people love her from just hearing her. I have around eighteen minutes left, eighteen minutes to collect myself.

I can do this. I can. "You're going to do amazing pumpkin. I know you will," Dad says, looking me over. I bite my lip, hopeful that my red lipstick is smudge resistant, and nod. He pulls me into another hug, and I sigh into his arms, wrapping my arms around him. "You look some much like your mum."

"I miss Mum," I whisper. Dad's eyes are filled with tears as he strokes my hair, and I look up at him. He chokes a bit, blinking the tears out of his eyes as he breathes in deeply.

"I do too pumpkin. But you'll see Mum again, okay? Just get through the interview and do well. It's like the things you like to read, like a book. Say the right things and people will like you. The wrong things will make them hate you," Dad offers, his voice cracks as he talks. "Just _come home_ , okay?"

"I'll try Daddy," I reply, "but with what I'm wearing right now might not have them like me."

I'm wearing a black dress, somber with no glitter, only a high neckline and a hem with a bit of lace. It ends at my knees, and I wear black pumps which I can hardly walk in. A silver infinity necklace and infinity earrings are the only jewelry I wear; they're nice enough I guess. My dark hair is in a bun, with a few strands of hair curled for an extra effect.

It's like I'm dressing up for my own funeral.

"You look like a grown up now pumpkin," Dad chokes out. "You grew up so fast, and now you're here, and I can't save you… I'm so sorry pumpkin, this is all my fault."

"It's not even close to your fault Dad, it's the people who voted, and this sick reality," I insist, looking at him urgently.

He sighs, "I guess so pumpkin. You're almost up, good luck. You'll do amazing. They'll love you, they'll love you almost as much as me and Mum love you. We love you so much sweetie, you're going to do great."

He kisses me on the forehead before going to his spot in the back. I shake my hands a bit, stealing a quick look to make sure I didn't ruin anything, before waiting for my turn to enter the stage. The gentleman from Six is making the audience laugh right now, and I peer out into the crowd.

All of the multicoloured people… all of their glitter and faces, it's nothing like Hollywood in _The Golden Days_. It's nothing like Zelous Kingsman said it would be like, it's more. It's terrifying how much this matters, how much my success relies on this. Augustus is finishing up, _oh god, oh god, oh god…_

"And now, for the girl we all wanted to see, give it up for the victorious legacy Willow Feyr!"

 _It's time_. I walk up slowly, careful not to trip in my tall high heels as I smile and wave at the crowd. _Be yourself. Act natural. Act like a_ _ **victor**_ **.** The crowd goes wild as they beam and scream, I twirl a bit and have some fun, acting like a victor, or more so a celebrity in _The Golden Days_.

I take Augustus' hand and sit down on the plush white chair, facing the audience with a smile on my face. "It's so nice to meet you in person. We've all heard so much about you, being one of our _favourite_ victor's child, right? Who loves Anthony Feyr?"

The crowd goes wild, and a clip of my dad winning the games all those twenty one years ago pops onto the screen. It shows my dad stabbing the guy from Two in the heart before collapsing in exhaustion, Augustus declaring him the victor of the Fourth Hunger Game. I smile pleasantly, trying not to seem exhausted.

"I love my dad too!" I exclaim awkwardly, causing the audience to laugh a bit. "But really, all my life, he told me stories about the Capitol, and I've always wanted to visit. Too bad I was too young, I met a lot of his amazing friends from here, but it wasn't the same you know?"

Augustus nods, listening to my rambling. I really just want to shrink away and hide, this is too much for me. The pressure of this situation is making me nervous. "And now you're here. We're so glad to have you! You scored a lucky seven, just like your dad did! How does that feel?"

"Good?" I blurt out. The Capitol laughs, and I will myself not to turn red as Augustus lets out a laugh as well. "It's nice, my dad got a seven and look where he is now. He's a victor now, right?"

"Mentoring his own daughter, that must be hard," Augustus sympathizes, and the Capitol 'aws'. I want to get up and scream at them, telling them that this is all their fault that a father must mentor their daughter. But I don't. I keep my mouth shut. It takes a lot of courage to talk in front of a crowd. "Do you think you have a better chance with being your dad's daughter?"

"I really don't know Augustus," I reply shyly, trying my hardest to seem as not shy and extroverted as I can. "I guess I do, but I had skill from not even being a victor's daughter. How do you think I got that seven?"

"And how did you do that?" he leans in.

I smile again. "I'm just very talented," I state.

The crowd goes crazy again for some reason; maybe they're just really happy? And the buzzer goes off. "It was amazing talking to you Willow!" Augustus exclaims. "We'll be excited to see you in the Games!"

"I am too! Thank you everyone!" I exclaim, walking off stage as quickly as I could in heels (which is not very quick may I add), and run into my dad's arms.

"You did well pumpkin," he whispers to me as we walk back to our floor, floor seven. "Your mom would be proud."

"Thanks Dad," I say, leaning into him, drifting off as exhaustion takes over my body.

* * *

 _Harper Regalia, 20_

 _District Eight Female Tribute_

* * *

Everything was ready. Hair and makeup, my outfit was set, but something just felt… missing. Everyone was flitting around, talking about how everything had to be perfect for the first ever Quarter Quell, and I sat there, not knowing what to do.

Do I make conversation? Do I sit there and stay still?

I sit still for now, fiddling with my hands, careful not to mess up the fake lilac nails, which were shiny and reflective. My hands were smoother than ever, every callus is gone from all my years of throwing knives. I feel like a doll.

Yesterday was an idiot move from me. Walking out on the Gamemakers, especially where my score depends on it? What was I thinking? Oh dear, all I said was "I know you think you've seen everything, but I don't think you've seen everything yet," and "Thank you for your time." That was dangerous for me to do.

Are they giving me a high score, one of the highest scores an outlier has ever gotten, because of that one move? Because if so, I'm doomed. Caydin doesn't seem to think that that's the case, and I believe him, but I'm really nervous for today.

So many things can go wrong right now. Someone could get hurt or faint, someone could cause an episode, _I_ could faint, the little girls from Five and Ten could get hurt! I'm just worried, but my heart beats a bit quicker the longer I stew.

I watched Caydin's interview, memorizing every word. He looks so handsome in his outfit, looking sleek like a weapon. Alexis was fierce and deadly in hers too. I'm just nervous from watching. I need to get some blood flowing to my legs.

I get up, wobbling a bit in the heels, before smoothing out my dress and heading over to the girl from Ten, who looks like she's about to cry. "Are you okay?" I ask, making my voice soft so I don't startle her or embarrass her in any way.

She looks up, her big brown eyes wide and teary. "I just m- mi- miss my dad, that all," she stutters, looking down. I kneel down, careful not to ruin the stylist's hard work, before smiling at her.

"It's okay to miss your dad, I miss mine too," I whisper, looking at her straight in the eyes. I stroke her hair, letting her let it all out, like I did for the children back in Eight. "But we have to stay strong for our dads, you know? We have to do well for them so when we come back, they'll be happy to see us."

"I guess so," she replies, her voice a bit choppy from the little bit of crying she did. I give her a sad smile.

"That's all we can do. And you'll do great with the interview…" I trail off, not knowing her name. The last few days have been busy and hectic, I never got around to learning everyone's names.

"Leona," she finishes. "And you're Harper, the girl from Eight. You're really pretty."

"Thank you," I say. "You're gorgeous too. I love your name and your outfit."

"I really like it too," she whispers, looking around wide eyed at her partner, who stares at us in concentration. "Can I show you something cool?"

"Of course you can!" I exclaim. Leona starts to spin, at first carefully in the fancy black flats on her shoe and the headband in her hair, but she becomes more confident. She starts to giggle, having a lot of fun, and I smile too, happy to see her happy. She has allies, I know, the girls from One, Eleven, and Twelve, but they don't often _always_ talk to her. It's the happiest I've observed her during the span of the past three days. She trips, tired from all of the spinning, and I catch her.

"That was amazing!" I say, and I'm being honest. Someone just enjoying themselves with no worries in the world… that's something I wish I could see every day. Someone being happy for no reason than just being happy.

Caydin catches my eye as I talk to Leona, and his golden eyes soften. My cheeks grow hot as I bite my lip, Leona noticing that I stopped stares at me with a smile on her face, her cheeks rosy.

"You like the boy from Two!" she exclaims.

"Sh!" I say. It's no use lying to her. "No one knows that, it's a secret. Can I trust you to keep it?"

'Of course you can!" she declares, giggling when I turn red once more. She sticks out her pinky. "I pinky promise!"

I hook my pinky around hers, grinning. She sticks her arms out. "Can I hug you?" she asks. I nod, not knowing what to do. I don't hug people often, but Leona wraps her arms around me and squeeze me into a hug. Hugs though… they feel nice. Not many people want to hug me, not many people want to hug the mayor's prissy daughter. I hug her back, tears starting to form in my eyes. If I want to go home, Leona, Caydin, the little girl from Five, the elderly from Five and Six, Alexis… they'll all have to die.

And I don't think I can handle being at fault for people's deaths.

I realize I do know what's missing, what's been missing off my wrist since the tribute parade. The bracelet... _Skye, my best friend's_ , bracelet. My eyes widen, and I don't know what to do. Do I let go of Leona and rush to get the bracelet? Or just forget it? It doesn't feel right letting go of home…

"Leona… I'm so sorry, I forgot something. I need to ask my mentor if he's seen my-" she cuts me off with an understanding smile.

"It's okay Harper, I understand. Maybe after our interviews?" I bite my lips, Caydin flashing in my mind. I can make time to see Leona before heading to the roof to see Caydin, right?

"Maybe," I say simply. " I have to go now, good luck Leona!"

"Good luck Harper!" she calls back, and I speed walk over to where the mentors are. I can't find Woof. Where's Woof?

"Harper?" a small, quiet voice calls out. I spin around as quick as I can in the heels, and see Paige, with red eyes and a tired face, staring at me, holding Skye's bracelet. "Are you looking for this?"

I grin, hugging her tightly, careful not to hurt the frail girl. She clasps the bracelet onto my wrist. "It's beautiful, like you," she manages, her voice rough like it hasn't been used in many years. It's quiet, but she smiles weakly. "You'll do great."

"Thank you Paige," I say in awe.

She smiles and nods weakly. "Go," she whispers. I speed walk over, making sure my hair remains the same. Leer from Seven is done now, and he just walked up. Hurry up Harper!

Augustus says something, but I can't hear it with the panic going through me. I manage to get up the stage on time, a huge smile spreading on my face as I wave to the crowd. "It's so nice to meet you Augustus," I say, my voice not sounding as out of breath as I thought it would.

"I must say Harper, you are simply the most beautiful tribute I've ever seen in my twenty five years of doing the games!" he exclaims. "Isn't that right folks?"

The crowd goes wild, and I blush a bit, not being used to it. "Thank you," I manage from my shock. "I guess you can thank my parents as well for the good genes they gave me."

"Good genes indeed!" he declares, smiling broadly at me. "And with your good genes, Harper, do tell me, how did you get your nine?"

"I guess you can say I'm good with knives," I state casually, which causes the crowd to 'ooh!'. "I have been doing it since I was a little girl, after all. You should be able to be good with knives after doing it for so long."

Augustus leans in. "Good with knives?" he asks. "Do tell Harper, what do you mean by 'good with knives'?"

"When I was little," I start, "people weren't really nice to me because I was the mayor's daughter. And some days, I would come home with bloody knees and broken arms. My mom was not happy at all, and told my dad that if he didn't do anything that she would. She wouldn't have hurt the kids, at most it would be is a warning and that's all."

"Did your dad do something?" Augustus asks.

"Yeah," I nod, the memories coming back. "He took me to our basement the next day and gave me a set of knives. He taught me how to throw them, he gave me a new set everytime mine broke… soon, he was too busy to teach me, so I learned by myself. That's it."

I feel a bit embarrassed, but the Capitol seems to love my story. A lot of them cheer. "Well, Harper, we're certainly amazed by your knife skills. I assume we'll see them in the arena?"

"Yeah, definitely," I agree, nodding. "It's my favourite thing to do I guess. It became a… _hobby_ in some sort, but you'll see even more than just my knives in the arena. I promise."

The Capitol cheers, the crowd going wild. Augustus shakes my hand, grinning at me as I smile at the crowd. "The gorgeous Harper Regalia everyone!" he exclaims, and I wave and smile, walking off as elegantly as I can with my aching feet.

I see Leona and give her a kiss on the forehead. "You did good, Harper," she says in awe. I don't correct her with a 'You did well," and I hug her.

"Good luck Leona," I say.

* * *

 _Dayley "Day" Stockholm, 23_

 _District Eleven Male Tribute_

* * *

Thea smiles at me before vanishing, her wide eyes, the things I loved most about her the last things I see. I feel plastic, processed, but hey, I spent twenty years of my life being plastic, the three with Thea was where I was real, and actual person.

I'm done acting like everyone expects me to act like. It's my time to be myself. I have to be honest to myself. Let all of my demons go, do what Thea wanted me to be. Happy. Free. Loved.

I wonder what my parents are doing back at home. Are they happier now that I'm gone? I don't know, but I hope that they are watching. I hope that they are playing the interviews right now, so they could see me. So they could see how sorry I am.

Blair is gone, her dress pretty on her, something close to what Thea wore in her interview. A black dress with white swirls. Thea wore a white dress with a thick black belt. She didn't even spare me a glance, which is okay, I know that it is. She doesn't think highly of me right now, no one does. But I will change their minds. I will get the district to forgive. I will forgive myself. I will finally let go of Thea.

But everything I am doing right now is for her.

She smiles briefly, and I can see her again, dancing on the stairs, eyes glinting mischievously for a second, as if daring me to come closer. I shake my head no, no, I won't get in trouble right now. No, Thea, maybe later.

Blair gets a few laughs, but something seems off with the people and Eleven. I can see the President, all high and mighty in her golden throne, looking down at Blair with a certain… _distaste_. As if she's eaten something wrong. Her daughter, Emma I think, no, Emory, sits beside her, listening intently yet sadly, looking at Blair with almost _pity_. What?

Then I remember how Seeder acted with us, a bit closed off, distant. My mother had always said that Seeder was one of the more caring victors, one of the ones who took the time to get to know her tributes to help them out. Either my mother is wrong, which is pretty unlikely as she is good friends with Seeder, or something is happening. Something's not going right with District Eleven.

Sweat starts to make my hands clammy, and Augustus announces me. I don't catch what he says, my ears are ringing for a bit, but I feel the ghost of a hand, a ghost of Thea's hand, on the small of my back, urging me to go forward. It's as if Thea is there with me every step of the way.

My ugly ass raspberry suit is uncomfortable, and I sit down in the now way too warm chairs. "Hey," I say.

Augustus smiles, trying to figure out what to do with me. The feeling of Thea's hand over mine is comforting me. I don't need to care about them. I'm my damn own person and these interviews don't mean anything to me. "Well, Day, how are you liking the Capitol?" he asks.

I cringe in disgust, crossing my arms and leaning back to get more comfortable. "First off, only my close friends call me Day, and the only person closest to me besides my parents was Thea Burton."

There were gasps all over, some people responding enthusiastically to Thea's name, while others laugh. It makes me angry. She's dead because of them. She's dead because of me. "Thea was the prettiest, smartest, nicest, and the overall best person I ever knew. She was the person who'd wake you up at midnight to see the stars with her. She was the person who'd hold your hand wherever you went, always there for you. But then… she was reaped for the games, and the district's light was gone. Diminished. And so I thought she could win, so I thought that _you guys_ from the richest part of Panem would help sponsor her, so I didn't. But you didn't. The girl from Two-"

My breath hitches, and tears well up, but I blink them away. "-she killed Thea Burton. She killed the best thing that could ever happen to Thea, and Aurora Rosner became the victor of the Eighteenth Hunger Games. Thea's murder could have been prevented by me, but most of all, it could have been prevented by all of you. So no, I'm not having the best time in the Capitol."

Augustus looks flabbergasted, and he looks up at the President's box. President Starling looks at him angrily, hinting him to cut it off. "Well, sorry Dayley, I suppose our time is up. Dayley Stockholm everyone!"

I cast a look over through the crowd. The Capitol looks half shocked, half stunned, but I don't care.

I'm done caring about anything anymore.

* * *

 **The interviews are done! Woo, 8.8 thousand words, that's enough for a chapter! So if your tribute didn't get a point of view, they'll either get it next chapter for the before games or the launch room. I'm trying an eight tribute per chapter thing, and I quite like it. Every tribute should have at least two points of views. I find that if I do more than eight, it gets tedious and boring, and you wouldn't want to read it if it was really repetitive.**

 **I know that the games should be next, but I want to spend more time on character development, something I have been doing but want to do it before the inevitable bloodbath. Anyway, I tried to get this chapter out as soon as possible, which I might say was pretty good with about a week and a bit from the last time I updated, so not bad!**

 **Also, again, if you submit a tribute to Whispers, that would be much appreciated.**

 **Tell me what you think in the reviews! ;)**

 **IMPORTANT: Remember that whatever you said how long you _want_ your tribute to live may be not what they get, so not hate if your character dies much earlier that you wanted. It's not nice to have hate just because I didn't see your tribute fit to survive as long as you hoped they would. This bunch is really strong after all!**

 **Once again, thanks for reading and taking your time to read my author notes, I know how unnecessary they may be but they get all of my information in. See you next time for the night before!**

 _~Ata_


	22. The Night Before- Final Goodbyes

**_The Night Before_**

 _Final Goodbyes_

* * *

 _Ashe Ellwood, 20_

 _District Twelve Female Tribute_

* * *

I pace around the room, my feet not even making a sound on the sound absorbent floor of the tribute penthouse.

I can't sleep. Nothing I try can even remotely helps me even entertain the idea of falling asleep, which would be much easier for me. In sleep, I'm away away from all the worries and fear of never being able to live after tomorrow. The imminent doom heading my way terrifies me, as it did for more than 500 tributes before me.

The bed is too soft, way softer than the one at home. It's unbelievable plushness makes it hard for me to sleep, hard for me to do anything in it. I am not used to the soft, comfy bed. It may be more comfortable to sleep in, but it's not home. Nothing of this is will ever be like home.

The place I stay in is the penthouse of the tribute apartments, also known as floor Twelve. It's quite nice, but almost silent. In the Seam, it's never silent. We rarely have anything remotely close to peace and quiet. There are dogs barking, the hum of the electric fence. It's never peaceful. The penthouse seems almost eerie.

I fall back down on my bed, trying to count sheep. It's fruitless, though, and I know it. My eyelids don't feel heavy, and my arms are tired. This is hopeless. I'm going into the arena drowsy and probably falling asleep: I'm going to fucking die.

A soft knock can be heard all around my room. "Come in," I say tiredly, rubbing my eyes, expecting it to be the escort, Slatia, or hell, even Shadow. Instead, a dark skinned girl comes in, looking sheepish as she smiles at me, her brown eyes tired as well.

"Hey," she says. "Can't sleep either?"

"Does it look like I'm asleep right now?" I ask drily, sitting up on my bed. She sighs, biting her lip as she takes a seat beside me. "Who let you in?"

"Your mentor," she replies, looking at me. In the darkness, with only the bright lights from the Capitol as our source of vision, she seems likes she's glowing. She rubs her arms tiredly as she stares outside, lost in whatever world she's in. Her voice is breathy, not even close to what she usually sounds like. "She seems a bit out of it though, I don't think she's okay."

"Yeah," I agree, following her gaze to the city, with cars down below. Everything looks so small. I turn to face her, shifting my weight in front of her. "Why are you here, Blair?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, her eyes still lost in the view. She looks different from when she usually does; lost, younger, almost as if she was regretting everything she's done up until now. I'm not sure if I prefer this over her strong minded, slightly pessimistic self. No. I like her the way she is, no matter how she acts. "Just drinking everything in, one last time. You have the best view anyway."

"That still doesn't answer my question." I get off of the bed, walking in front of her. She looks off, lost from everything in the world. "Seriously, why are you here?"

She licks her lips, suddenly looking very small. "I just wanted to talk to you, I guess." She stares right at me, and I turn cold. What? "You didn't have to say that and act shocked, we are allies after all."

I realize that I said that out loud, and I clamp my mouth shut before opening it again to retort. Right, allies. "I know that," I snap, "but it's twelve in the night with really nothing to do. You could visit Leona for that matter, or even Anastasia."

"But they're not you," she deadpans, crossing her arms. "Leona's still a little kid, and Anastasia is a girl from One, who I only let into the alliance because you wanted her to be in ours. You're my only friend in the game, Ashe."

I realize that she is right. We are friends. Not allies. A way up in the relationship, I guess. Something different, I never imagined befriending another tribute in the games, let alone try to be friendly with someone in it. I never imagined being here in the first place, but here I am now. In a bedroom in the Capitol, talking to a girl who might die tomorrow, just like me. "What about your district partner?"

She snorts. "He's one of the people I despise the most here," she replies, looking around in my room, turning my lamp on. "If I would kill anyone in the games, it would be him."

"Why?" I ask. The guy doesn't seem bad, just a bit of a loner. Like me, before the games. "What did he ever do to you?"

"It's not what he did to me," she says quietly, looking down at her fingers. Soft tears well up in her eyes, and I put an arm around her comfortingly, like I would with Shula after a bad day at school. She leans into it, sighing deeply. "It's what he did to one of the best people I knew."

Knew. As in, that person is dead. "Who was he?"

"She," she corrects, "was Thea Burton, the nicest person you'd ever meet. Dayley, my district partner, was dating her, and she loved him more than anything. Everyone knew Thea; my best friend and I were pretty tight with her too, she's was the best. Then she got reaped, and we all thought 'hey, she might win this.'"

"She didn't, didn't she," I say, horror creeping up in my thoughts. How did he do anything to her though…?

Blair then starts to cry, quiet sobs into her hands. "Her throat got slit at the feast by Aurora Rosner from Two," she cries, "and she was placed second overall. She wouldn't have been lured out of her safe hiding spot if it wasn't for that stupid bastard who claimed he loved her. He could have sponsored her! And she would have won, not that stupid bitch Aurora Rosner."

She takes a deep breath before crying into my shoulder again. "And if she couldn't get sponsors, and couldn't win, then how do I have a chance? How can I do this tomorrow?"

"You can do this," I insist, hugging her. "You can win."

"And how do you know that?" she asks, her big brown eyes red with tears.

"Because you're the strongest person I know," I say earnestly.

She laughs a bit, it's a wet one, filled with resignation and giving up, but she smiles sadly.

It's all I can really give in a time like this.

We sit in silence for the rest of the night, watching the Capitol in the night, something so peaceful it hurts. We don't say a word, nothing's needed, it's comforting to know that we don't have to talk. Finally, my eyelids feel heavy, and I go to sleep.

Blair's gone by the morning.

* * *

 _Dennis Herd, 18_

 _District Ten Male Tribute_

* * *

I consider getting a drink with Sable before the games. Leona is busy off with the pretty girl from Eight, who smiles emptily as she listens to a joke.

Empty. Before this, the games… Heather, I was empty. But now I'm not. I have a purpose now. My only purpose is to take care of Heather. It's eight o'clock now, right after the interviews, and my outfit, a rather tight grey suit and tie, is making me itchy. I get out of it quickly, fingering the bottle of brandy before pouring all of it down the sink.

No. I will not drink. Tomorrow, there's a big, big thing coming up. If I want to protect Heather, I can't have a hangover. A headache and a spinning world won't help me out at all. I smash the empty bottle of brandy on the sink and scream, letting it all out.

I want to see Heather. I want to see my rock, my only purpose, someone who is like the little sister I've never had. I value her life over mines, something I would have never thought of before the games. Even if I didn't want it to happen, the games have been the best thing that happened to me. It changed me. It made me a better person.

And that's all because of Heather. Because now I want something for someone else, something good for someone other than myself. I am selfless when it comes to Heather. I get up, dusting myself off, as I brush my hand along the smooth leather couch. The girl from Eight, her violet eyes empty, broken, scared, hollow, gets up, kissing Leona on the forehead and heads to the elevator. I join her, as she presses the button for the roof and I press the button for floor Five.

Heather's floor.

The entire elevator ride is silent, the girl barely making a sound. It's like she's given up, accepted her fate. We're all going to die tomorrow, even if it's not at the bloodbath.

A bit of our souls will be taken in the process.

The elevator dings loudly, and she gets out, not saying another world as she mutely walks away. I wonder if she'd try to end it. She seems so confident, she smiles a lot at training and at the interviews, but now, it's like everything left her body.

The ride down is peaceful. A small screen plays the repeat of the interviews, this time with commentary from Titus Alverstone and Yolande Weatherbee. The boy from One is on, smirking and talking his 'unique skill set'. I shudder and lean my head on the cool metal.

The doors open, and I get out quickly. Heather's district partner, Watt, I think, looks over from his spot on the couch, with a mug of hot tea on the coffee table. He's talking to Heather, who giggles as she takes a bite out of her cupcake, a pink one.

She's always said pink was her favourite colour.

She looks up when the doors ding, and her eyes light up and she quickly swallows down the cupcake. "Dennis!" she squeals, running up to me and hugging me. Watt looks at me, as if surveying me. I wave at him and hug Heather back.

"I just saw you a few hours ago," I laugh, messing up her light brown hair, in which she smacks my arm hard, frowning at me. "You couldn't have missed me that much."

"Well, I did!" she retorts, crossing her arms and glaring at me. "It doesn't hurt to have some fun before the games, right?"

"But the games are tomorrow," I say quietly. She snorts and takes my arm, dragging me to the couch.

"Like you could care," she says, taking the remote and switching the channel from the interviews and the betting odds to a game. "Just live a little, Dennis. Please?"

"Fine," I grumble, taking a game controller from Heather. "How do you even play this?"

"Watt showed me!" she exclaims. "It's like a dance game, he said that he used to play it all the time from when he was my age. Just put the strap around your wrist and copy what's on the screen."

"Um, okay," I say. I hate dancing though. But if it'll make her smile, I guess it's worth a shot.

"I'm the girl with the pink glove," she says, selecting her character, and she shows me how to do it. "I had a set of video games at home, too. I never played them because my daddy is too busy to. He used to play with me."

I get the guy with the neon blue glove, a colour so bright it hurts my eyes. She picks a song, one from a famous Capitol artist named Viera, called, "There's only One".

The words, "Just Dance" appear on the screen, and it starts. The familiar beat of the song begins, it's something the Capitol always plays when there are interviews, chariot rides, and anything related to the games. This song is pretty old, around five years old now, but Viera made this song just for the games.

It's catchy, but I can't help but hate the song. I copy the moves of the screen, and the lyrics flow.

"I know it hurts," Viera sings, "but it'll all be over soon. You'll go down in history, we'll never forget you."

I snort when she says the last line, of course they forget. They're like little birds, and we're their worms. Their entertainment. I start to sweat, the movements super fast. Heather giggles as she moves to the music, her light brown hair flying everywhere. I can't help but smile as well, the stupid song leaving my head.

I move faster now, the song getting into the chorus, again.

"It's a brave sacrifice, people will always love you," I glance over at Heather again, who dances perfectly to the song, her eyes glued to the screen, and she looks back at me, her hazel eyes so happy and carefree. "It's a hard world, but it doesn't mean it'll never be easy too."

It's starting to end, and I started to shake my hands, as the screen tells me to.

"But in the end, darling, there's only one that comes out."

* * *

 _Leer Golder, 17_

 _District Seven Male Tribute_

* * *

I'm going to die. Tomorrow is the endgame. I can't do this. Please, god help me. Help me, I need it. I want to live, I want to see my family again.

Please.

A hand reaches out to me, it's dark and cold. There's nothing around, it's an empty, chilly place. Ice is everywhere. I'm alone, like usual.

A silent scream works its way up my throat, but nothing comes out. The hand wraps around my throat, choking me, and I claw at it, but it's not working.

Help. Help. Help. I plead for it to go away, and I try to pry it off, but the hand is stronger than me. It's much stronger than me. Air starts to be trapped in my throat, I can't breathe.

Someone, please help. Someone, please…

A cold blade touches my tongue, and I can feel the pain of my tongue being chopped off. My eyes burn, my throat compresses, I'm dying. The Capitol is angry at me, they're making me an Avox. I'm going to die…

I wake up with a start, sweat running down my forehead. I pant, wiping my hand over my forehead. My bed is soaked with sweat, the room is dark. There's light outside my window, the brilliant white glow hurting my eyes. I look around blurily, wiping my eyes and.

3:40 A.M. The red bright light of the clock blinks back at me. I sigh, there's five hours and twenty minutes until I have to go of to my death. I don't attempt to go back to sleep, the nightmare makes it harder for me to go back to the land of sleep.

I roll out of bed, stretching and getting out. I head to the kitchen. No one should be awake by now, I'm pretty sure there's nothing that can tip me off.

It's dark, but the lights immediately turn on as soon as I step into the room. The lights are dim, nice for my eyes, and I relax, sinking into a plush chair.

I wish you guys could be here with me, if only for a minute.

I feel someone behind me, and I jump, putting my hands in front of me in defense. It's a blonde girl, dressed in red, looking at me emptily, as if expecting me to do something. I cough. "Um… hi," I say awkwardly.

She just stares at me blankly. I know I shouldn't have expected her to respond, she's an Avox, who lost her voice cruelly from the Capitol. "Oh, uh, can I have a glass of warm milk please?" I ask.

She nods, and I'm alone once more. I wonder if she hates me, because she's forced to serve me. I get to live this short life of luxury, being bred like a cow for slaughter, while she pampers me against her will. I wonder if she resents this life, and what she did.

But deep down, I know that I'm just as free as her.

She returns with a mug of warm milk and a plate of cookies, perfectly frosted. "Um, thank you," I say, taking the glass of warm milk from her. "Have a cookie."

She gives me a look, like "What the hell dude?" and doesn't move. I inch the plate closer to her. "Have one," I insist. "My brothers at home would love this stuff, really, no one would know."

She still doesn't budge, her round blue eyes sad and fearful darting around, as if to tell me that the Capitol always knows. "It's okay, what's the worst they can do, kill me?" I ask bitterly. She doesn't switch her emotions, but her eyes softened a bit. "Please have one, I- I have no one else to share it with."

She finally relents, taking a perfect cookie from the plate and cautiously takes a bite. She chews a bit and swallows, but I know she can't taste. Her tongue's gone, after all. The Capitol stole her voice. "Can you write?" I ask her.

She nods, looking around. "Get a pen and paper, then. I want to know more about you." She gives me a questioning look, but I raise my eyebrows. "I might die tomorrow, what's the harm?"

She sighs silently, then gets up and comes back with a pad of paper and a pen. She hesitantly takes a seat beside me, still looking around cautiously. "I'm Leer," I tell her. She gives me a soft smile, before jotting something down.

 _"I know,"_ she says, _"I work for you after all."_

She shrugs at her own mini joke, before looking at me again. "What's your name?"

 _"Cahira,"_ she tells me. _"I used to live in District One."_

I look at her in shock. "Really?" I ask, and she nods. That explains the blonde hair, and the fact that she's really pretty, but why is she an Avox?

As if sensing my confusion, she quickly writes something else on the notepad, as if a bit sheepish, but definitely angry.

 _"A Peacekeeper tried to rape me,"_ she explains. _"I fought back and killed him with his gun. The Capitol was really mad and made me an Avox because of that. They didn't care that he raped millions of other people my age, but that I killed him."_

Anger wells up in my throat. "But he tried to rape you!" I exclaim. "He's a rapist, that doesn't matter. He killed other people too, probably, why shouldn't he be an Avox as well?"

She shrugs, looking down. _"It's just the way life is,"_ she says. _"It's unfair. You out of all people know that."_

She struck a chord, and I look down. My family. _"You'll do fine, I know you will."_

A really bad idea runs through me. "How old were you when they made you an Avox?" I ask.

She looks down, as if ashamed. _"I was twelve,"_ she replies finally. _"That was six years ago. Of course, no one cares that he raped twelve year old cadets from the academy, but that a Peacekeeper was killed."_

"You've been an Avox for six years," I say in horror. "My youngest brother, Pine, he's fourteen, only a bit older than you were when he tried to- I'd kill anyone who tried to do that to him."

 _"They killed my mum and little sister,"_ she writes with tears streaming down her face. _"Because I killed that Peacekeeper. It's my fault, if I just let him do it, they'd still be alive."_

"It's not your fault," I say firmly. "It's his fault, and the Capitol's. Never yours. This- this life- it's unfair. Is there anywhere where there's nothing bad that could happen to anyone?"

 _"If there was a place like that,"_ she smiles sadly, _"we would have never met. But that's how life is, everything happens for a reason."_

She looks at me with her broken, blue eyes, and I know that she just wants it all to be over. For the pain to end. I don't know what to do now, but I have to win.

For Oak. For Banyan. For Pine. For Dad. For Jasper. For Cahira.

I lean in, and she closes her eyes shut, and I kiss her. I don't know why, or how, but I do. Her lips are soft, but hesitant. I might die tomorrow, I might as well try to have one last of freedom. She pulls away soon, tears dancing in her ocean eyes, and she kisses me one last time. "That, the Capitol can't control," I tell her.

She laughs, well, tries to, and writes one last thing down. _"Good luck Leer. Try to win. Please. We're all rooting for you."_

* * *

 _Watt Emerson, 80_

 _District Five Male Tribute_

* * *

We all sit on the couch. It's quite a peaceful sight; Heather, Deena, Magnet, and I, no one else. Our escort went out for a party to celebrate the games, so it just left us.

Heather giggles, biting into another cupcake, but I don't have the heart to warn her to cut back on the sugar. I am worried about her, about what could happen tomorrow. I know that Dennis will try to protect her, but what can I do for her?

Worry seeps through my veins as I think about her… she reminds me so much of my daughters, all three of them. So perfect, so innocent, so pure, what will the games do to her? I only feel despair for her, I can't imagine what would happen to her in the games. They've stolen so many young lives from people all around Panem, and for what? It's not fair for the younglings, they don't deserve to go through this pain.

No one deserves to lose a loved one.

The Capitol stole so many people I care about from me. They took away my daughters, and my wife died from that grief. I won't allow Heather to die too, she can win. She is smart, resourceful, quick, and has Dennis. She'll do fine. She'll do fine. She'll do fine.

I keep on telling myself that she will be, and Deena is looking at Heather with a pained expression, while Magnet keeps a painful distance away from the alcohol. I think they both want her to live. I want her to live. She only deserves to.

A hear the elevator ding behind me, and I turn around. A familiar face comes out, his face troubled, but as soon as he sees Heather, his long face disappears. She has that effect on everyone, she's such an angel.

She quickly swallows her cupcake, and I open my mouth to tell her to slow down, she might choke, but she gets up quickly, squealing "Dennis!" and my heart just melts. Dennis smiles brightly at her, as he scoops her in his arms, hugging her tight. He waves at me before burying his face in Heather's hair. I smile back at him, taking my drink back to my room. They'll have fun without me.

"Goodnight," I say to everyone, but Heather doesn't notice as she talks to Dennis. I head to my room and take a sip of my hot tea, lying down in my warm, soft bed, easing my aching muscles. Maybe I should have a hot bath, something to soothe them before I go into the games tomorrow.

I hear music playing, and the familiar Hunger Games song in the background. Heather must be playing video games with Dennis. I smile to myself, despite my eyes drooping from my tiredness. At least they're enjoying themselves, that always a good thing. They're young, they can have their free, fun time.

I set down with a sheet of lined paper and a pen, contemplating if I should write something. Why not, just something to say goodbye to the world. I'll leave it on my desk for Deena and Magnet after I'm done.

 _"Dear Heather,_

 _If you are reading this, that means that you have made it out alive, and I am dead. Don't worry, I am fine from where I am. I am glad that you are alive, and safe, and happy. If you are reading this, that means Dennis is dead. Sweetheart, it's not your fault that he's dead if that's what you're thinking. He wanted to protect you, that's all._

 _When you get home, show this letter to the officials, or the mayor. I am leaving everything I have to you; all my money, all the jewelry, my photographs, everything. You can decide what to do with them, you have everything, like you deserve._

 _You have given me a purpose again. You are the light at the end of the tunnel. You are an absolute angel and a gift to this world. Never forget that. You are like the granddaughter I'll never have, and the last two weeks have been the highlight in my life for a very, very long time. Thank you for giving me a reason to wake up, and go to the games. Everything is for you._

 _Spend time with everyone you love, and live your life for me and Dennis and Shannon. Fall in love, get married, enjoy everything around you. You deserve all of the happiness in the world, your smiles are a gift everywhere._

 _And no matter where I am, I will be looking over you and making sure you'll be alright._

 _Love, Watt."_

I set the paper down, my hand slightly hurting. The music has stopped, and I go outside. Heather is in her room, I presume. Dennis gets out, looking tired. "Just put her in bed, she was out like a rock," he says, stuffing his hands in the pockets. "Goodnight, I guess I'll try to catch you tomorrow."

I stop him, gripping his wrists. He turns over to me, his eyes so empty. "Promise me one thing," I hiss at him. "Promise me you'll protect her with everything you have."

Dennis swallows. "I promise I will protect Heather," he vows. "She's my savior, I'll do anything for her. I promise I'll make sure she'll live."

I smile, tears forming in my eyes. At least I know she's safe with Dennis. "Thank you," I say.

"Thank Heather," he tells me. "She's the only reason I'm still here."

He leaves, and I go to Heather's room, finding her fast asleep. The blanket is falling off, she must have rolled it off. I tuck her in, kissing her on the forehead. "Goodnight sweetheart."

I leave her room and collapse back onto my bed.

I'm just so tired.

* * *

 _Platinum Worth, 22_

 _District One Male Tribute_

* * *

The entire night is spent rejoicing for the Games. Of course, my ever so 'too good for the Careers' partner Anastasia spends her night before the games holed up in her rooms, watching old reruns of the Games.

Oh well, it's her loss. If that's how she wants to live her last day like this before I kill her, okay, that's what she can do. She'll be one of the corpses she's studying in the games soon enough.

Shimmer comes over to me, her elegant blonde curls in a fancy twist, still from the interviews, and her green eyes vivid with colour. She laughs, her mouth a bright stripe of red, handing me a bottle. "Have some," she tells me, tipping her head back and downing her whisky. I take it from her hesitantly, remembering the last time I drank.

She notices my hesitation before laughing, placing her delicate hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, the Capitol has hangover pills. You'll feel better than fine tomorrow, Platinum, more alert than anyone." She takes another drink from the Avox before clicking my bottle with her shot glass. "Cheers."

I take a sip, the bitter amber liquid burning my throat. Shimmer giggles, with her voice high and throaty, taking another shot down. "Come on Worth, is that the best you can do?" she asks, playfully punching my arm. "And I'm so disappointed, the Academy said you could handle anything. I guess they were wrong-"

I gulp down the entire bottle, the liquid making my eyes tear up. I smirk at her, the tears blurring my vision. She smiles at me, handing me another bottle. "Just relax," she says, her emerald eyes becoming unfocused. "You'll be fine. Just have fun."

I take another sip hesitantly, and she smiles encouragingly. Another sip, another sip, and another one. I get lost in the alcohol, letting it consume. Tilver notices me and comes over, a Capitolite woman on his arm.

She's actually quite beautiful, her skin swan white and her hair raven black. Her eyes are amber, glinting mischievously at me before stroking Tilver's arm seductively, biting her blood red lips. "Ah, Cordelia, this is Platinum Worth. Platinum, this is Cordelia Snow, a possible sponsor."

She turns towards me, her amber eyes cold but warm at the same time, something I thought only I could master. "Tilver, I'm not a possible sponsor," she purrs, running her amber eyes over my body before snapping back to my face, "I am a sponsor. My brother, Coriolanus, remember him Tilver? He's got a huge breakthrough in the government right now, so I'm putting some bets on. I know that my sponsorship won't go to waste."

"Um, thank you," I say, smirking a bit. The alcohol messes with my brain, and I take all of my willpower to stand up straight and not puke. "You seem to be a very smart and capable woman, putting your money in the right place."

She smiles at me, her gleaming white teeth sticking out behind her plush lips. "Well, of course. We Snows know everything that's going to happen, we seldom ever are wrong." I now notice the seductive black dress she has on, and the subtle lick of her lips. "Perhaps, though, I should take a test run. Just to see that I'm making the right decision."

She takes a sip of her drink, her eyes focused on me. I quickly take another bottle of whatever type that alcohol is from the Avox's tray and down the entire bottle. "You don't need a test run," I say smoothly, "I am going to be the future victor. I also have someone at home."

"Oh," she pouts. "Well, I guess that's a shame, isn't it? She doesn't need to know, she's all the way back in One."

"Well," I reply testily, not trusting this beautiful sponsor, even if she is one. I love Gold. I love Gold. Right? "I love her, she's my family. I'm so sorry to cut this short, Ms. Snow, but I think I should meet some other potential sponsors now." I add another charming smile, and her amber eyes glint with malice. "Of course, just to see who wants to say they sponsored and bet on the future victor."

"You better win Platinum," she says, her silky voice low and threatening. "Because it'll be a shame if you don't. After Caydin Armon's interview, people are starting to think he's more of a potential victor than you are. After all, he did score an eleven-"

"Pretty Boy has nothing on me," I snap. "He probably flirted his way with the Gamemakers, I pretty sure that's it. I'm going to be the one who slits his throat in the arena anyway, Ms. Snow, so you have nothing to worry about. The others have nothing on me."

"Whatever you say, Platinum," she smirks, crossing her arms over her elegant black dress, something Gold would have loved. "You just hope you will win. Pretty Boy has a pretty good chance."

I give her another fake smile before snatching another bottle from the Avox and downing the entire thing. After that stupid conversation with Cordelia, I definitely deserved it. Like Caydin Armon would actually win the games. He may be strong, but the stupid prick's got his heart on his sleeves, too emotional. He doesn't have the will to kill Alexis in the end, I know it. She'll kill him first, if he's lucky.

I spend the rest of the night chatting with potential sponsors, and have gotten a lot of flirts from men and women alike. Not all of them were as stunning as Cordelia, with their freakish neon skin and animalistic like features. But they were easy to manipulate, and all said they were going to sponsor me. That's all that matters.

My interview did me wonders with how many people think I'm going to win.

My vision soon gets blurry, though, and Shimmer comes over to me, more sober than before. "Oh god," she groans, before waving off the Capitolite and taking me to my room. "Worth, how much did you drink?"

"Enough," I moan, my head pounding. I feel the urge to throw up, and puke on the floor. Shimmer does nothing except for getting an Avox to come clean the mess up. "Get Gold here, I need her. Please."

"Sorry Worth, Gold's not here. You'll be fine, just win and see her again," she soothes, because at the end, that's all she can give me. She can't make me feel better.

Flashes of pain erupt through my head, and I see red flashes.

Murderer. Killer. Sinner. You can't win, you don't deserve to. You couldn't even save Silver, how can you win? You're going to die. You'll be forgotten, murderer.

Murderer, murderer, murderer.

Shimmer waves a hand in front of my face, before giving me water and a pill. "Swallow this, you'll feel better soon," she instructs.

I do it, and my headache starts to clear. "You'll be fine now, right?" she asks.

"I'll be fine," I say. "Tell the others that I'm not coming back out. I'm calling it a night."

She nods. "That's probably the best thing to do. Take a shower, brush your teeth, and get ready to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning. I'll leave some more pills on your bedside table if you still feel crappy, which I doubt that you will."

"Thanks Shimmer," I say.

As I pad over to my bathroom, which thankfully was connected to my room, tears blur my vision. I don't cry, but I'm worried. How can I win if I couldn't even save Silver?

* * *

 _Leona Allerton, 13_

 _District Ten Female Tribute_

* * *

The pretty girl from Eight, "Harper," she tells me in her gorgeous voice, does come. It makes me really happy. Taty really loves her as well. I really love her dress too, it's yellow like the prettiest sunflowers in the vases here. I wish I could have a dress like that, and if I could look good in something like that.

"So, what do you want to do?" she asks me, and Taty is running her hands through Harper's silky brown hair, already taking a brush and combing it. Harper smiles tightly, but doesn't say anything as Taty brushes Harper's hair.

"I don't know," I shrug. Harper's skin is pale compared to mine, hers olive coloured ish and mine darker, more tanned. She looks different from me, as everyone does. Because we're not all the same people, we're diverse and different.

"Do you want to play some games? Oh! What about chess, I'll teach you how to play," she suggests. I nod. I've never played chess before. I don't even know what it is. Back at home, Ambrosia, Hawk, and Gizelle like to play outside with hide and seek and other types of outdoor games. Never something like chess or checkers or cards. That's the beauty of living in hot, sweltering Ten.

She gets up, gently taking Taty's hands out of her hair, and looks around for the chess set. When she can't find it, she goes to the Avox. "I'm sorry to bother you," she says, "but do you happen to know where the board games are being kept? I just want to know, you don't have to get it for me if you don't want to."

The Avox smiles at Harper, but instead of pointing towards where the board games, she goes and gets it for her. She hands the wooden box to Harper, who smiles at her. "Thank you," she says. She sits down on the table we use for meals, and I sit across from her. Taty takes a seat on the couch, watching tv.

"So how do you play?" I ask her. She smiles at me, setting up the pieces.

When she's done, she looks back up at me. "Okay," she says, "so this one, the one that there's the most of, is a pawn. Pawns can only move forward, and when they want to take another piece, they move diagonally."

She shows me how the pieces move forward, and I wonder if the games are like chess. If we're all like pawns. "The queen's my favourite," I tell her. She looks at me curiously, her pretty purple eyes sparkling.

"Oh yeah," she says, her perfect face in a smile. "Why?"

"Because she's like you." Harper frowns. "She's the powerful one, and she protects the king. She can do anything, and is good at it. Like, you're really smart and powerful and kind and pretty. People make you powerful because of it. You want to hang out with me, even though you could choose anyone else to talk to, and people would talk to you. You're the perfect angel in the tv at home, the person I want to be."

She smiles at me, her eyes watery, and she hugs me. I didn't expect her to cry, but she did. "Thanks Leona," she cries, "but I'm not all that. That's what I want to be too."

I hug her back tightly. If I had an older sister, I would want her to be like Harper. Harper, the person like Taty who would talk to me and not ignore me. Even the girls in my alliance are kind of nice to me. Ashe is nice to me, she helps me out. Anastasia taught me how to kind of shoot, but I'm not good at it. Blair hates me, I know it.

Harper teaches me how to play the rest of the game, and by the end, it's something I'm kind of good at. "You're a natural," she praises, beaming at me. "You're good at this."

"Not as good at you," I point out. She's won most of the games, I've only won one. I think she let me win that one though.

"Well, you just learned how to play. I've been playing before you've been born," she tells me. "My mom taught me how to play. It was the only thing she did with me, so I would practice and get really good at it so she could notice me."

"Did it work?" I ask curiously.

She smiles sadly. "No," she admits. "But that's okay. I have my butler as my best friend, anyway. He taught me how to make granola balls, do you want to make some? I promised Caydin I would meet him after this, if that's okay with you."

"It's fine," I smile. "You and the Two boy can have your fun. I saw that you like him."

She blushes. "No, we're- we're just friends Leona." She gets up and heads to the kitchen, and I follow her. She sifts through the ingredients and takes out honey, granola, and chocolate chips. "This is the healthier version, I guess."

We mix all of the ingredients together, granola balls are really easy to make. They taste really good, too. Harper takes a bite and smiles. "Just a bit of fun before tomorrow, I guess," she says. "Is it okay if I leave now? It's getting late, you should go to bed soon."

I nod. "Thanks Harper," I say. She kisses my forehead and smiles at me sadly.

"Good luck tomorrow Leona," she whispers, tears welling up again in her eyes. "I hope you sleep well for tomorrow."

"I will," I promise her. "Have fun with Caydin!"

"I'll try," she says softly, before heading to the elevator. Dennis goes with her, and I give him a weird look. He doesn't notice me, he never does.

Taty and I spend the rest of the night chatting, before she tucks me in with tears in her eyes.

I hope tomorrow will be a good day.

* * *

 _Kayla Nevius, 18_

 _District Nine Female Tribute_

* * *

Tears run down my face as I rock back and forth on my bed. Sweat drips down my body as I cry and cry and cry.

It's midnight here in the Capitol, but I can't be more awake. Normally, I would wander around the room, trying to remember everything, but I'm not. I should be asleep, ready for tomorrow. But I'm not. In less than 12 hours, I will be shipped off to my doom.

Even watching old reruns of the olders games can't make me feel better, not even Rosemary's win. I'm absolutely miserable, rocking back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, hoping I can fall asleep.

I thought I would love being here in the Capitol, hanging out in to go to the games, have fun, and win. But the Careers are trained to kill, and they will kill me. They will try to kill me. I have some experience with weapons, but I'm really good to weaponless hand to hand. I'm pretty fast, so I think I have a chance.

I think I don't like the games, I hate them. I used to love them on the screen, how they played every single moment, how the arenas were so beautiful. How the tributes were so good at being good. But now I think the games weren't the things I loved, but the screens and arena. I never want to watch another one again when I win.

For once, I miss my family, even my little siblings. Tears streak my face and I cry into my arm. I get up, going to the washroom. The light is bright and I groan. I walk over to the mirror, and blanch on how bad i look.

Yes, it's midnight, but I usually don't look too bad. My hair is super messy from moving around a lot, definitely a lot of tangles. My eyes are red and swollen, and I already have dark circles forming. I grimace, starting the bath.

I guess it's okay to have a little luxury right now. I'm not going to be home for at least two weeks. The water is pouring into the bathtub, and I take some jasmine bath bombs (at least, that's what the package says) and put them in the tub. It turns a bright purple.

I step into the tub and sigh, the scorching hot water makes me feel amazing. I lean my head on the side of the table and relax, letting my eyes flutter close. I can probably fall asleep here, nothing would go wrong.

I turn the jets on, and streams of water pound away at my back, relaxing me more. I feel really good, and I hope the games will at least have one bath tub. Just to feel good for the tributes. I yawn, rubbing my eyes and I relax in the bathtub.

Eventually, after the jets end, I do get out and drain the tub. I might drown, I've heard cases. I put on another clean nightgown and relax into my soft bed.

I can't wait until I can just go home.

* * *

 _Caydin Armon, 20_

 _District Two Male Tribute_

* * *

I fold my hands over my lap nervously. The roof is pretty warm, it is the end of June. I wonder what Rhea is doing right now. She'd probably be asleep right now, Mom would have put her to bed after my interview.

I check the fancy Capitol wristwatch. It's ten o'clock, she should be here soon.

A lot has happened, I guess. I still can't stop thinking about that eleven… the first tribute in the games since Gleam Hale from District One of the third games to get one. I guess I did well in training, but I'm not sure. I'm just so tired, but I have to see her.

I wonder what Rhea and my mom thought about my interview. Everything I said was true. I want to get back home to Rhea, so she'll never have to be in the Games. I know what Dad wants. Just one child to be a victor, to bring even more fame and fortune to our already famous and rich family.

That's why I have to win. That's why I have to come back home, bring the riches and fame and guilt, for Rhea. For the reason I will do anything in the Games. If I fail, if I die, she'll be here as soon as she turns eighteen. She'll be the next tribute for the Armons. She'll be forced to live her life as a ruthless killing machine. She'll grow up like me, always put under a microscope.

The elevator dings, and I turn around. She smiles shyly, looking gorgeous in a yellow dress. Her perfect eyes are shining, and she walks over to me. "Hey," she says, sitting down beside me on the bench.

"Hey," I say. "Did your mentors stop you from coming again?"

She shakes her head negative. "No, well, actually, I made a stop before this," she admits. I look at her in confusion. "The little girl from Ten. I made a stop at her place to see her before I saw you."

I know that it's none of my business, but I just had to ask, "Why?"

She shrugs, toying with her delicate hands. I can tell that the stylists put some type of polish on her nails. Rhea always insisted that Mom and I could paint her nails pink for her. "Just reminded me of home," she finally replies, staring out at the horizon. "I'm an only child, you know. Well, of course you know. But that's not the point I guess. Um, well, and I'd get lonely because it's a huge house with exactly usually two people in it, me and my butler.

"And I'm the mayor's daughter, so Dad's out for work and Mom's out with some of her wealthy friends. Eight's not the most… peaceful district, if you know what I mean. A lot of rebels there, one of the most rebellious districts in Panem. So Dad's trying to make peace with the district and snuff out rebellion so no one would get hurt or killed, and Mom's still chatting with the only rich people in Eight. We're pretty poor in Eight too, not like One, Two, Four, or maybe even Five, so there's a lot of starving kids. I get lonely anyway, and since we're the richest in the district I sneak kids in to help them. To feed them and make sure they're okay. I guess I just missed having people to talk to."

I stare at her, and I don't know how someone could be more kind. "I grew up rich also," I tell her, "but my life, for sixteen years of it, I never really cared about the poor. I cared about the fact that one day my dad will be proud of me, and that one day I would be a victor and he'd finally say that he loved me. That I had his approval. Then Rhea came along…"

She smiles at me, grabbing my rough, well, used to be rough, hand into her soft one, and leans her head on my shoulder. Something that brings me peace, and something that I hope gave her a sense of peace too. "And then Rhea came, and I stopped caring about being a victor, being a killer, and that I was scared because what if I'm not a good person? Rhea, the person I want to always be there, having a murderer for a brother, and that I'll never be good enough for her, or even Alexis," my voice shakes a bit.

"Stop," she says softly but firmly. "You're a good person. Your past doesn't define you, what you did in the academy doesn't tell you who you are. It's what you are now that tells people who you are, and who you want to be."

"I'm a golden boy," I reply grumbly. "Even Alexis thinks that."

"Alexis," she starts calmly, rubbing her thumb on my hand, "thinks the world of you. I can tell by the way she looks at you. Whether you like it or not, Alexis looks up to you and she idolizes you. She may not act like it, but Alexis harbors a lot of respect for you. She doesn't with the rest of our allies, and for most of the people here, but she does for you."

"I'm just scared that I'll have to be the one to kill her," I admit. "I don't think I could do that. And if I don't, and it's down to the two of us, me and Alexis, then it's like choosing between her and Rhea. If I kill Alexis, I win, but I'll always feel like she could've gone home. If I let her kill me, Rhea will be training as soon as I die to become a tribute and victor."

"It's okay to be scared," she soothes. "It's a natural thing we as humans do. But you can't go through the games thinking about what happens if you kill her, or the outcome of what it'll be at the end, you'll always be scared of something that might not happen. And you might live your last day worrying about something that's not necessary. Just be happy while you can."

I look up at her, and she gives me a smile. "How are you so good at giving advice?" I ask her.

"I'm not," she admits, "most of it is word vomit. Or my mother did something right raising me."

"No," I disagree, "your parents did do something right, because you're the kindest person I know."

"Thanks," she smiles at me, tears suddenly welling up in my eyes. "Caydin, can I ask you something?"

I nod. "Anything."

"Please don't kill the little girl from Ten. She's just so young, and I think she could last long with her allies. Please." Her huge purple eyes are suddenly flooding with tears, and I wrap my arm around her.

"I won't kill her," I promise. "Just like I won't kill you.

"Caydin-" she protests. "You don't have to do that. You have so many other people to live for, it's not fair for you to say that. If you have to in the end, then I won't stop you. I'd rather you win than me."

"How are you so selfless?"

She smiles sadly. "I'm not. I'm pretty selfish actually, because I only want you to win."

We spend the rest of the night talking aimlessly about things we like, about our life at home, and I keep on going back to what Alexis said to me. I promised her that I wouldn't get personal with Harper, but I did. I don't think I could kill her.

I'm torn.

She kisses me goodnight and I watch her leave, standing outside by myself, wondering how I got myself into this mess.

Alexis, Harper, Rhea. Alexis, Harper, Rhea. I really don't know what my priorities are anymore.

* * *

 **So you may notice now that the Games still haven't happened. Why? I guess I like character development, giving you guys enough time to bond with the tributes and form your opinions on them before the games. There's one more chapter, the launch room, and then there's the bloodbath. Yay! Wiping out about half of the tributes! Not.**

 **You guys are kind of like the Capitolites, except you're all much better than them. The spectators... I guess, and I guess I'm the Head Gamemaker, except I hope I'm much cooler.**

 **Anyway, I guess that now you guys have solid-ish opinions on the tributes that I can start to ask you guys questions. Why? I really don't know, I guess I like hearing what you guys have to say. Sorry I sound so crabby, I'm quite sick right now but I think I'll get better soon. More time to write, am I right? So here are three questions, I'll probably ask for some each chapter.**

 **1\. What's your favourite relationship so far and why?**

 **2\. Who's your favourite character and why? (We all love Amy, though. Seriously ;)**

 **3\. If you could choose any tribute to get a free pass on the games, who would it be and why?**

 **Anyway, please answer those questions, and I hope you enjoyed today's chapter. Happy belated Valentine's Day, and see you guys soon!**

 _~Ata_


	23. The Launch- Here I Come

_**The Launch**_

 _Here I Come_

* * *

 _Alexis Penn, 18_

 _District Two Female Tribute_

* * *

I don't really get to see Caydin in the morning. It's more of an in and out sort of thing. Or, well, mostly a wake-up call from Phoebe. "Alexis, it's time to get up!" Phoebe says in a sing-song type of voice.

My eyes open blearily, and I dip my head back onto my pillow for a bit before getting back up, feeling better. My eyesight clears up, and I smile tiredly at Phoebe. "Good morning," I say softly.

"Morning Alexis, now get ready! Allegra is coming in an hour to get you ready for the games, you need to up and ready by then." She pulls me up and towards my bathroom, shoving me into it. I only manage a quick glimpse at the clock, which said _5:30_. Ugh.

"Wait!" I say before Phoebe slams the door.

"What?" she asks irritably.

"Where's Caydin?"

Phoebe gives me a soft look, possibly because she misses her close childhood friend as well. "Caydin's getting ready right now too. You'll see him on the hovercraft ride to the launch room, don't worry."

"Okay," I say. I get into the shower, quickly washing my hair with two squirts of strawberry shampoo, one squirt of strawberry conditioner, and wash myself with strawberry body wash, something close to home. I like routine, it keeps me going.

The heated floors quickly dry my hair and clothes, and I check myself out in the mirror. My dark brown hair is shiny and has soft waves in it. My eyes are a bit tired, but that's nothing a bit of coffee could fix. I look fine. I feel fine.

I wrap a fluffy robe around myself and brush my teeth, flossing, and making sure I look okay for the audience of the Capitol. I don't normally care this much, but this is the Games. These are what I've been training my whole life for. I get out of my room, and my stylist Allegra is already there, sitting on my bed while checking her nails.

"Oh Alexis, _darling_. You look amazing! Here," she shoves a pink thing into my hands. "Get into this then meet me on the roof. Also just grab those pink flats over there, too. See you soon darling, oh you're going to have _so_ much fun!"

She leaves the room in a flurry of red, pink, and yellow, and I roll my eyes. Usually I try to keep a straight face while around Capitolites, but it's hard. I can't stand them, they're so entitled and annoying, not having to work hard for anything. They're everything I stand against.

I shimmy on my clothes, step into my flats, and get into the elevator. The roof has only me, Allegra, Caydin, and his stylist on it. He smiles at me when he sees me. "Hey Lex," he says. "It's a big, big day."

"Yeah," I agree, looking out at the horizon the Capitol, bright lights already appearing because _today's the beginning of the Hunger Games_. "I guess it is."

It's not cold because it's the beginning of July, and a hovercraft appears out of nowhere. A ladder drops down from it. "I guess you climb it," I suggest. He shrugs, and starts climbing. After a while, his stylist goes up after him.

"You have to go to now, darling," Allegra tells me. I nod, and start to climb up the ladder. I expect to get off it, but I'm frozen in place. I frown, looking around for Caydin, for his stylist, for _someone_ to help me get out of this.

A woman in a white lab coat comes, holding a syringe. Realization dawns on me, it's my tracker. I relax a bit. "Hold still," she tells me, already starting to insert the syringe into my forearm, "or it's going to hurt."

I comply, and the syringe is inserted. It doesn't hurt that much, I guess after years of academy training and sometimes getting stabbed helps with your pain tolerance. Allegra soon joins us, and we all sit together in the hovercraft.

I feel the hovercraft taking off, and then it hits how close I am to everything. "Are you nervous?" I ask him. "You didn't get a lot of sleep last night, you were with _her_ on the roof."

I give him a pointed look, telling him that he's just digging himself a deeper grave, and he shrugs. "Not really, I guess. And you didn't either, if I'm right then you were up most of the night taking notes on the past games."

"Well, someone has to!" I retort, crossing my arms. "Since you were off with her, I was making sure we were prepared for whatever's thrown at us."

"Okay," he mumbles quietly, "thanks Lex."

After a few minutes, or at least what feels like it, the windows tint, signalling that we reached the arena. Caydin smiles warmly at me, before wrapping me in a hug. "Good luck Lex, see you soon."

I smile back at him, hugging him back tightly. Tears spring in my eyes, remembering Kayla, my older sister. When was the last time I thought of her? "See you soon," I say.

He goes down the ladder first, with his stylist, and after a while, I go down too. Allegra and I go through an underground tube, which is under the arena, to go to my Launch Room.

Everything's new and clean and sleek and shiny, just like the Capitol. It's quite comfortable looking, just like the tribute apartments. I'm the only person who's going to be using this, every arena is different and preserved as a tourist spot. I remember visiting the first ever Hunger Games arena as a child.

"Shower," Allegra demands. I bite down the " _I just did,"_ that was threatening to come up and comply. I follow my regular routine before Allegra helps me with my undergarments. She then gives me a black long sleeved shirt, made out of swimsuit material, and grey pants made out of the same materials. She completes it with an army green jacket and brown shoes, which seem to be water resistant.

She puts my hair in a simple ponytail, my trademark favourite hairstyle, and I slip on Hartley's ring. I look in the mirror, and I feel beautiful. Just as beautiful as the chariot parades, with the flaming weapons. Just as beautiful as the interviews, in a silky black dress. Even though I'm not dressed as fancy, I feel just as gorgeous.

"The shirt, pants, and shoes are all waterproof," Allegra tells me. "And the jacket seems to be able to store body heat, as does the pants. So honestly, I think there might be a great deal of water included into this arena."

A bit of fear swells up inside me. Water? That means I'll have to swim. I can't swim, I don't know how to. "Phoebe also says to stick with Caydin," Allegra recites, "and remind him where his loyalties lie."

I nod, running my hand over the tube, before twisting Hartley's ring. My token into this arena, perhaps my only stable reminder of him. A bit of fear that _what if this isn't worth it?_ comes up, but I swallow it down. Victory's not a guarantee, I know this, but there's no one who works harder than me in this, not even the most skilled like my fellow Careers.

My whole life, dedicated to this very moment. I know that I will kill in this arena. There's no other doubt. If I want to prove to be a good tribute to sponsor, I'll have to. Hartley's ring twists and twists and twists, and a tear drops. I don't know what it's from.

I've never been more ready for something in my life. I've never been more sure about this in my life. I'm going to go out there, I'm going to win it. For Hartley. For Mom. For Dad. For Kayla. I've dedicated my entire soul to this, and it's too late to back down now.

I'm ready.

The Hunger Games, here I come.

* * *

 _Shadow Tin, 19_

 _District Twelve Male Tribute_

* * *

My stylist is finishing the final touches of the tribute outfit for this year. I play with Slatia's charm, the shadow charm, while he does it.

My stylist, well, I don't really know his name because I never really bothered to, is done now, sobbing with joy on how I look.

I look at myself in the mirror. I look okay at best, nothing that great. People would probably look better than me. It's okay though, I don't do well in the spotlight. It's better to play behind the scenes, in the shadows.

I wonder what the arena would be. Maybe the ruins of District 13 to remind the rebels about what we've screwed up on? Or perhaps the ruins of Hollywood? I remember Slatia at home, watching the popular Hunger Game pools about what the arena would be.

I never really cared; I never thought I would be in the games, and that the arena was irrelevant because it wasn't someone I cared about that would be going into it. But then the president got murdered, his crazy wife took over, and now this year's games are now 'special'. So the arena would be a masterpiece, I don't doubt it. I'm just nervous about what it would be.

Caligula Noman is apparently an artistic mad genius. Mad, but a genius. I'm working up a sweat from just thinking about it. Back at home, Slatia would tell me all about the arenas, just to add a little colour into our life. But now that's gone, I guess. Last year was a candy land, a huge hit with the Capitol. The year before was the inside of a volcano, with a huge fire breathing dragon at the end. He is unpredictable, something that really, really scares me.

Slatia Burnet, my mentor, doesn't come in. I assume she's with Ashe, or lost in whatever place she's in. I don't care, what advice can that looney bin give me? She's just as crazy as the people in the Capitol in her own way, it doesn't matter what advice she gives me, because she doesn't know what she's saying. She lost her head when her little brother lost his. That's what everyone says, because that's what happened. She's like a tin ball, never moving, thinking, or being useful, just there.

"Good luck," my stylist tells me. I look at him dully.

"Thanks, I guess," I reply, my tone empty and dismal.

The flamboyant man looks taken aback by my attitude, but stays still. "I hope you'll do okay in the arena," he says, "but District Twelve hasn't had a victor in nineteen years. I hope you could break the streak."

"Why do you care?" I ask him.

The green man shrugs his shoulders, before rolling up his bright yellow sleeves and showing me a flame tattoo. "I don't really know," he says, "but my mum was from Twelve."

I suppress a " _yeah, right_ ," and a scoff, instead letting out a little "oh." He smiles a bit and claps his hands.

"Well, I hope you do well, and have the best time in the arena. I hope you do make it past the bloodbath, Shadow." He helps me up from the chair, and leads me over to the glass tube. I almost throw up just from looking at the tube. The one that would bring me to the arena. I'll never be ready.

The tracker in my forearm itches as I step in. I know I'll never be ready, but hey, when as I ever ready for anything that ever happened to me? The mines, my family, I'm doomed anyway. I accept it.

I take a deep breath, and step into the tube. The stylist, of course I never learned his name, waves sympathetically at me. Or, at least, tries to.

The cylinder goes up, up, up, and I ascend into darkness.

Well, here I come, I guess.

* * *

 _Blair Wild, 20_

 _District Eleven Female Tribute_

* * *

Sneaking back in early in the morning to avoid your mentor isn't something that's as easy as it sounds. Okay, well, it doesn't sound easy, but it's really hard.

Seeder was out there, looking as me disapprovingly, crossing her arms in a frown. She has a mug of hot tea, not coffee, because she believes coffee's really bad for your teeth, in her mug, as she gives out a little sigh. "Blair, it's the day of the games. You shouldn't have been out in the first place, sneaking off to wherever."

"Sorry," I mumble, looking down. I stifle a yawn, but her hawk-like gaze catches it. "Just one last final hurrah, I guess."

She gives me a look of pity, before shoving the mug of tea into my hands. "Drink this. Vasilious is almost here. I don't know what he wants you to do yet."

I gulp down the drink, which isn't too cold but not burning hot as well. Seeder smiles, just as my stylist, Vasilious, comes in, holding a white robe. "Oh! Blair, looking as lovely as ever. Excited for the games?"

I shrug, trying to keep a poker face. "As much as I could be!" I pip false cheerfully. I can imagine Nell rolling her eyes in the background. _You are being so fake right now, Flair._

Vasilious claps his hands excitedly. "Of course. Blair, here, get into this only. We'll meet you on the rooftop after."

I take it with steady hands, walking back into my room and put on the simple black long undershirt type thing. I slip on some flip flops too, just for comfort if anything. At home, I would wear flip flops around my house because the floor was dirty.

" _Such a One girl Flair,"_ Nell would tease, while she wears flip flops as well. " _Scared of a little dirt?"_

I smile softly, fingering the tarnished gold chain around my wrist. Seeder offered to make it a bracelet so I could wear it in the arena, and for once, I let her. I'll see Nell soon. I will.

I get out and get up in the elevator to go to the roof. Throughout the entirety of my short stay here in the Capitol, I never once went on the roof. I guess I never had a reason to go on it, and now here I am, about to go to the arena where I might die.

Seeder gives me a soft smile before patting my back. "Good luck Blair," she whispers quietly. Her warm brown eyes are as encouraging as ever, and I manage a weak smile back.

"Thanks," I say, my voice hollow, as Vasilious ushers me towards the hovercraft's ladder. I didn't notice it before, but there it is, looming above. I swallow deeply. "Do I just climb it…?"

"Of course you do silly!" Vasilious exclaims, pushing me even further. "Come on, rumor has it that the ride is at least thirty minutes. We're on a tight schedule darling."

I take a deep breath before climbing up the ladder, my palms so sweaty yet my grip is firm. When I get to the top, something in my just freezes. A man comes over to me, and I try to move my head around to avoid him. I can't move though.

"I'm so sorry, I just need you to stay as still as possible so I can place your tracker in," he tells me, holding the syringe over my arm.

I repress the urge to scream, " _I can't move anyway!"_ but of course, my mouth can't move either. I'm just standing still at the top of a ladder in a hovercraft that will lead me to my imminent doom. A sharp pain erupts in my arm, and my mouth moves to open to yelp, but I can't move.

Whatever is holding me in place finally lets go of me, and I scramble to a seat. Unfortunately, the only one available is beside Dayley. He must have gotten here much earlier. His eyes are red, but not like they were on the train rides. Gosh, that was a week ago too.

He looks like what I feel. Vasilious comes up, and grabs a plush seat in the corner with Dayley's stylist, a quite blue woman, and they talk loudly, ordering food from the Avox. The hovercraft takes off, and I grip the handlebars tightly, fear washing over me.

Heights. Just one stupid fear I have. We fly up and up and up, and I sweat, breathing hard, just like Dayley is beside me.

I guess I'm finally coming to meet my doom.

* * *

 _Sickle Rhoades, 19_

 _District Nine Male Tribute_

* * *

I wake up like it's every other day in my life. A grumble here, covering my face with my soft, soft pillow, taking my left arm to slam my alarm clock shut, before closing my eyes and resting a little more. I've never been one for waking up in the morning. Sure, I did it for work all the time, or to take care of my mum, but I never enjoyed it. It's not like I was up all night anyway, like I would have been in Nine, getting a drink with Kenneth until the sun rises. I guess I don't know why I'm doing this like this anyway.

 _But you do know. To give yourself a false sense of normalcy. Comfort. To tell yourself that you're not going to die today_ , a little voice in my head tells me.

I slam the alarm clock a few more times, just to let myself have that fantasy of this not being my last of on Earth. My eyes are heavier now, almost asleep. _Almost there…_

"Sickle!" Rosemary storms in, slamming the door against the wall as hard as she could, before throwing my blankets and pillows off me. "I've been calling you for the last half an hour! What in Starling's name are you doing still in bed?"

"M'sorry," I grumble, starting to get out. I rub my eyes, trying to rub the blur out, before blinking a few times to stare at Rosemary. "I was just trying to fool myself into thinking I was okay."

My tone was sarcastic and bitter, but Rosemary smiles softly. "Oh," she says. Her soft black hair is pulled back into a messy, wispy ponytail, her face with a bit of makeup, nothing too extravagant but just subtle enough to know that it's still there. Her green eyes, something almost non-existent in Nine save for her and her daughter, were tired though. Maybe from lack of sleep. "Well, you still need to get ready though. At least get dressed."

"I am dressed," I reply tiredly. I am. I have pajama pants on and that's it. It's not bad, at least I'm not naked or anything.

"Just put a shirt on," she sighs. "I'll be in the kitchen waiting for you. You're thirty minutes late and if we're not on schedule, I'll get an earful from your stylist later."

She walks out of the room, slamming the door. I sigh, getting out of my bed, before falling back in and closing my eyes for a few seconds. "Sickle, I mean it! Hurry up!" I hear her exclaim. I get out of bed for real then.

I walk, well, more of stumble, to the drawer, grabbing a soft, random shirt and pull it on over my head. I make an attempt to comb my hands through my hair, but it's futile. Oh well, my stylist could handle that. I slip on some sandals and walk to the kitchen.

"Thank Panem you're done," Rosemary breathes out, taking a sip of coffee.

"I only took ten minutes Rosemary, it's fine," I tell her. She blinks, before crossing her arms and scowling.

"You are so lucky you're much less annoying than Kayla is or so Panem may help you I would have strangled you by now!" she snaps. "You're infuriating! _Ten minutes?_ Sickle Rhoades, you were in your room for thirty minutes! You do _not_ take as long as I do to get dressed. You definitely aren't Kayla. What is going on with you today?"

"I'm nervous," I finally reply flatly. Rosemary softens. "I'm scared."

She takes a deep breath. "That doesn't excuse your behavior today Sickle, but I have to let it slide. All I can tell you is that don't let people know that you're scared. _Just keep smiling."_

 _Just keep smiling._ Something she's told me multiple times now, and I don't know why. I just take it, and look around. "Hey, where is everyone?"

Rosemary's soft expression on her face molds back into a scowl. "Waiting for you on the hovercraft. We're all waiting now."

"Then," I shrug, giving a bitter smile, "here I come."

* * *

 _Noah Weaver, 21_

 _District Eight Male Tribute_

* * *

 _Well, I thought I was ready_ , I think to myself bitterly as the hovercraft takes off.

I grit my teeth as we move faster and higher into the air, the hovercraft going at undeniably fast speeds. I grip the sidebars of the seat tight, trying to calm myself down. I've never flown before in my life, being a poor low life in Eight sure does that for you. Being that high up in the air has never scared me before, either. I used to scale buildings and steal all the time when I was in Eight, why am I scared now?

Meanwhile, little Miss Princess is sitting deathly still, biting her pink lip softly as she wrings her hands in the air, leaning back into the seat. If only she wasn't such a brat, I would have had her already. Such a good slut, anyway. Oh well, at least the Two boy could have his whore, if she wasn't dead of course.

We're so high up now, that we could die at any minute. The train wasn't nearly as dangerous; we were on the ground, with a much smaller drop factor than the hovercraft's. Plus, if anything went wrong, I could have always just driven that stupid train by myself. Honestly, how hard could it be?

"We're not going to die, we're not going to die." I can hear her soft, nervous mumble as she closes her eyes tightly. I scoff, but don't say anything. I do repeat that mantra in my head though, even if she's a whore it's comforting at the least. At least she could have a few moments of peace before I kill her.

I smile to myself despite the situation. Seeing her bloody corpse, maybe then she'll be enough for a good fuck. Whatever, at least she would stop screaming. She'd be great if I took away her tongue, make her an Avox. Ha.

But the hovercraft soars and soars and soars, _up up up up_ , and I can feel sweat trickle down my forehead. _We're going to fucking die_. Nothing should be this high up. Not machines, not trees, and _definitely_ not people. Only things that can fly _naturally_. Nothing else. Anything else is just strange, and we should nuke them down.

I grit my teeth harder and dig my heels into the ground, something so solid, yet it could break and send my spiraling off to my death. This isn't as safe as the ground, no. It's only a board, separating me from the flaming pit of death. I don't want to die, not like this.

"Are you okay?" my head snaps around, to the bratty, over confident (pretty?) mayor's daughter. Only then do I finally get a good look at her. Her usually ditsy purple eyes are tired, a bit red if anything, and her brown hair is a bit messy. My lips curl. She would make have a good fuck if anything. If only.

I cross my arms though, rolling my eyes and scoffing. "Of course I am, _princess_ ," I sneer, my eyes cutting into her. "Why are you too scared up here? Daddy can't protect you anymore."

"It's not that, I-" she pauses for a brief moment, biting her plush pink lips, before sighing. "Never mind, you don't care. It's not like you would get it if anything."

"Why wouldn't I get it?" I snap. "Just because I'm not as rich as you are? Well news flash princess, you're weak. Stupid. Naive. You know nothing about suffering, you know _nothing_. So shut the fuck up, _sweetheart_. Because you'll never know about suffering. I'll give you the most brutal death to teach you about it."

* * *

 _Ceemore Miller, 13_

 _District Three Male Tribute_

* * *

Techna is calm as she picks at the omelette in front of her. The room is silent; our escort- I still don't know if _it's_ a he or she- is still nursing its hangover from last night. Apparently some wild party celebrating the games was going on last night, but I could care less. I'm not legal, anyway.

Ms. Wardong is still asleep too. She also most likely has a hangover from last night. She was up drinking and drinking and cursing the people in the Capitol after her mortifying interview. Techna rolled her eyes, muttering a quiet, " _Expected,"_ as she takes a glass of clear liquid and takes it to her room.

"How was your night?" she asks, taking a sip of her mug of coffee. My parents would take coffee when they could have it. It was a small luxury in Three, something that they only drank when they really needed it.

"It was okay," I shrug, taking a bite of the fruit on my plate, sipping orange juice. It's another thing that was a small luxury in Three, as in they never had it unless a victor came for a party and a district wide celebration. Of course, our last victor was Techna, which was fourteen years ago. I wasn't even alive then.

She sighed, taking a bite of her fluffy waffle, smothering it in syrup. "Just okay?" she prods. "Ceemore, that was your last night of freedom before the Games. There must have been something that you did that was more than okay."

It really was nothing special. I just stayed in my room, eating a bit of watermelon, something I took a huge liking to over my stay in the Capitol, and watching Capitol cartoons I found on a setting in the tv. It wasn't hard to find, if you disabled a certain control in the hard wire. Then, footage of the past few days of the Quarter Quell isn't what's only playing.

Angela would've liked the cartoons, I think briefly. There was one about a mouse who explored mysteries, something so stupid yet interesting at the same time. I wish I was with her now, she would make me feel better. Hell, I even miss Lance. He would say something stupid, but it would make me laugh nevertheless. "Just watched cartoons, ate some watermelon. Nothing special."

"Did you have a bit of fun at least, Ceemore?" she implores.

"Yeah, I guess," I say. "Hey, why are we eating breakfast so early? I thought that would happen after or something."

"Oh, that," she stares blankly. "I don't know, this is just to give you more time to digest and stuff, you know. You just usually eat when you're getting ready in the arena, but I want to give you more time to digest so you don't throw up in there. Why do you think I woke you up so early?"

"Oh." I guess that does make sense. "Then why didn't you wake up Ms. Wardong?" I know why she didn't, but it is entertaining to hear about her not-so hidden contempt for my former idiot of a teacher, now district partner.

She snorts into her coffee. "Why would I? She'd be pretty unpleasant, anyway. Nursing a headache and bad mood from last night, no thanks. I thought I'd give you a break. You do know you don't have to call her Ms. Wardong, Ceemore. She's not your teacher anymore. She'll be dead by later today."

"It's just habit," I reply. "They die hard, you know."

"And she'll die easy," she says. A beep sounds from her watch, and she presses a button. "Oh, I'll take you to the roof now, it's time to go."

We take the elevator up, and she gives me a hug when the hovercraft pulls up. "Good luck, kiddo," she whispers. "Play to your strengths, remember the nightlock."

I nod, hugging her back, savouring the last moments of normalcy. "Thanks Techna. See you soon."

She lets go, tears in her eyes as she smiles sadly. "I know I will kiddo."

* * *

 _Anemone Williams, 22_

 _District Four Female Tribute_

* * *

You know you're special when you grow up with everyone knowing your name.

You know you're special when people made bets on you winning the games when you were only in the academy.

You know you're special when your district gives you another opportunity to win for them.

I know I'm special, I've know it all along. The top of my class, the best of the best. Everyone moves out of the way for me; it doesn't matter who you are, you move. I killed a man when I was fourteen years old. I beat my mother in looks, fame, and popularity, and I'll beat her by becoming the first ever victor of the Quarter Quell. No one can take this away from me; not my mom, not Shark, not my dad, and definitely not Wave. This is _my_ moment, and like hell I'll use it to shine.

Fourteen years, 168 months, 730 weeks, 5110 days, 122640 hours, 7358400 minutes, 441504000 seconds.

That's how long I've been waiting. That's how long it took me to reach my destiny. This is it.

I feel jittery as I bounce around the room. My hands shake, I can barely contain my excitement. It's almost time, time to make a statement to the Capitol. To make sure everyone looks at the screen and think, " _She's going to win. She's going to be the victor of the twenty fifth Hunger Games. Anemone Williams_."

This was always the endgame, what I wanted to happen. This was something that was always so far away, a distant dream. I thought I lost it all those years ago too, when Wave stepped in my stead, stealing ten years of hard work away from me. But now I'm here, and she can't stop me from getting what I've always wanted.

The white room is plush, yet empty, but it's perfect at the same time. This room is the portal between the life I've always lived in, the one where I've been spending it to prepare myself for this new journey, the games. This room is everything I want. I take a moment to run my hand along the glass tube, the walls, the floor, the furniture, everything.

 _It's almost happening._

Vienna bites her lip, but fiddles with my jacket, tying my hair more securely along my back. Shark would love this. Mom would do anything to be here. I know that, but this is my legacy now.

I try to peek up in the tube, trying to see what's coming, to get a little hint. There's only a black cover obscuring the view. I sigh. It was worth a try at least.

Vienna giggles. "You know that you won't see it until everyone else does."

I turn towards her, smiling. That's the only thing I feel like I can do right now, smile. Not smirk or wink or grimace or put on that cute little fake smile that always works with the crowd, but genuinely smile.

"What is it going to be?" I ask. I fiddle with the braid.

Vienna smiles, then shrugs. "No one knows, but rumor has it Caligula spent years of information collected to build this. All I know is that this is unlike any other Hunger Games arena there is."

My eyes widen. Another great way to show how I will be the newest, and best victor there is. How perfect it'll be when I win. "Is that true?"

"Stylists gossip," she says, tying the laces of my shoe. "It's not always true, but sometimes it is."

"Probably an underwater palace then," I muse. "Most people can't swim anyways, it would be an interesting twist."

Vienna shrugs. "We haven't injected you with anything other than a tracker." her eyes sparkle. "But you could be right. Ignatius put money on that anyway, and he's great friends with Caligula. He usually is right, anyway."

I rub my hands together in excitement. This would give me a huge advantage over the others, only Elias wouldn't struggle.

"Hey, you have to go in soon. Here," Vienna hands me my mother's golden ring. I slip it on, it's a perfect fit. "Good luck out there, Anemone."

"Thanks," I say, stepping into the glass tube.

This is everything I've worked for.

This is it.

May the odds be ever in your favor.

* * *

 _Shannon Farley, 84_

 _District Six Female Tribute_

* * *

Tears well in my eyes as I sit down in my chair. I'm already dressed, the necklace is around my neck. _I miss you Lucian_. I'll be with you soon.

Everything's in order now. In a few minutes, the games begin. That's what is going to happen. Children, innocent children will become murderers, lose themselves.

That's what happened to the people every single year. I will hope for sure that I won't make a child one.

The glass doors open, and I step in. I'm ready, it's time. My stylist waves sympathetically, he's knows as well that it cannot win this. I won't. Another young child should live, not me. I've lived a full life, and others deserve to live theirs to the fullest.

I wave back, tears running down my face. The doors slide shut. I lift off into the air, and the clean white room disappears from under me, the world fading to black and I fly up.

I'll see you soon Lucian.

* * *

 **Okay this definitely took forever. So the plan for this went a little askew, I missed up and had to rewrite a lot of perspectives, but it's out now. I don't love this chapter, but I feel like it's a final sendoff for our tributes. I don't know when the next chapter is out, or if I'll fall off the face of the Earth again, but just know that I won't be done with Chosen to Die until it's done. That's a promise. Let me know your thoughts in the review section, and also tell me who your favourite mentor is.**

 **Just a little side question, is anyone watching Avengers: Endgame? I pre bought tickets before the sites crashed, so I was *super* lucky, and I'm so excited! (Cap is my favourite btw ;))**

 **So, without further adieu, let the games begin!**

 _~Ata_


	24. Bloodbath- Fight or Flight

**It's not the longest but it covers almost everything. Also, there's a lot of cussing. You've been warned!**

* * *

 _ **The Bloodbath**_

 _Fight or Flight_

* * *

 _Alexis Penn, 18_

 _District Two Female Tribute_

* * *

As soon as my eyes snap open, all I can see is white.

It's pure, burning, pale, painful, white. No, this can't be the arena, it can't. This can't be the spectacle Caligula Noman promised for thousands of people all those months ago when the Quell was announced. It's impossible.

The countdown starts a little after, the numbers booming out in the open, foggy arena. I can't see anything. _60, 59, 58, 57..._

I can hear a cannon sound beside me, but more importantly an explosion. My head whips around, trying to see the person who ended their life too early for the bloodbath. I guess, in some sick way, one less kill. It takes a lot of squinting, but the fog clears up, just a little, to show me the remains of the woman from District 6. The one who was old, but most likely kind.

 _49, 48, 47…_

My eyes search for Caydin, for his stupid gold eyes. He's about ten people down from my right. The fog clears more, letting me see grey. The pedestals are shiny, sleek, and metal. Just like the Capitol. A little behind me is greener, but not green enough. In front is a huge mansion, the doors wide open. At least, that's what I think it is. No, this isn't-

My eyes snap to his. _We'll dominate this, you and I_. He seems to say.

I nod. _Remember the plan. No matter what we're going into, always stick to the plan_.

We're going in blind, but the plans we formed as an alliance always stays the same. Guard the cornucopia. Kill anyone in your path. Don't let anyone get valuable supplies. Wipe out of the competition. Platinum, Anemone, Elias, and Harper are smart enough to stick to this. They have to, or else we'll lose our control very fast.

 _35, 34, 33, 32…_

Whatever it is, I'll have to be ready. I've prepared for this, I've studied it, I know it. No matter what this could be, whatever it could be, I need to stick to the plan. There is no water, I'm pretty sure there isn't. I'm safe. No swimming. I can run pretty fast, too.

 _28_.

There's a slight breeze, or maybe I'm just imagining it. I shake a little, closing my eyes and calming down. _You got this_.

 _27, 26, 25…_

This was my dream since I was a little girl. This isn't what the dream was supposed to feel like, it's so much more. Energy zings through my veins, my knees trembling as I resist the urge to try to steady myself with my hands. I think it's from excitement, I don't know. I don't know what it is. It's overwhelming, the feeling of being _so close_ you could almost feel it, yet so far away at the same time. Is Hartley watching at home?

 _22, 21, 20…_

The fog clears more. I can clearly see the mansion now, looming over us, the doors wide open. _The cornucopia_. A fountain stands in the way.

 _16, 15, 14…_

A tear slips out. Then another. Then another. Not crying. I'm not crying. Not right now, in the most important thing of my life. This can't be happening right now. I need to be the strong person I've always been.

 _12, 11_ …

 _Is it all worth it in the end?_

 _10._

It's happening now.

 _9._

All of my life led up to this moment.

 _8._

The games was everything I had hoped for.

 _7._

This one, single moment, is what I'll remember for the rest of my life.

 _6._

Hartley would be proud, he has to be. I don't know what I would do if he wasn't.

 _5._

I wish Kayla was here holding my hand, or giving me a hug.

 _4._

Dad would be patting me on the back, spinning me around. _You did it._

 _3._

Mom would be hugging me, no doubt tears in her eyes, but happy tears.

 _2._

I can't let them down. I have to bring honor to my district. I have to _win_ for them, for Hartley. For Kayla. For Dad. For Mom. I have to. I need to.

 _1._

I'm going to win for them.

" _Let the 25th Hunger Games begin!"_

The pure white clears up entirely, showing the entire view of the president's mansion. The golden fountain is shiny in the sunlight.

And I take off into the cornucopia.

* * *

 _Harper Regalia, 20_

 _District Eight Female Tribute_

* * *

The familiar burn in my legs while running ends up being what comforts me most. I make it up with a match with my allies, my legs going as fast as I can as I pump my legs harder and harder. I see a rack of knives and make a run for it, grabbing it. I look around. I'm the first one here.

Anemone comes soon after, snatching up an axe and sprinting out. Platinum, Caydin, Alexis, and Elias all come in, grabbing their weapons of choice, before leaving. I stay in, holding down the fort. I prefer to not kill unless necessary.

I hear an ear splitting scream from my left, my eyes widening in horror as Anemone cackles, burying her axe deep in little Leona's chest, savagely ripping it out, bloodlust dancing in her eyes. I don't allow myself to shed a tear as I see her allies, the girls from One, Eleven, and Twelve, coming into the cornucopia. I raise a knife, wincing to myself as I throw my first knife, hitting the leg of the girl from One.

There's a moment of brief eye contact between the four of us, but the sound of another cannon breaks us out of it. The girls grab two backpacks before I launch another knife, the girl from Eleven barely dodging it. It hits her arm instead, and she howls, ripping it out, and uses her good arm to launch it back at me. I dodge it, preparing another knife before I see the middle aged lady from Three coming after her district partner with a pencil.

Another cannon fires somewhere in the distance.

The boy is unarmed, but for a split second, I consider killing both of them. But I can't kill a child, especially after Leona was just brutally murdered. I aim my knife at the woman's stomach and throw it. She's not dead yet. The knife pins her down, and she screeches, just like a witch. The boy glances at me in a wide deer in the headlights way, and I nod, gesturing to the knife. His eyes widen even more, and he scrambles, taking the knife out and stabbing his partner through the heart with the knife. The cannon fires.

" _Run,"_ I mouth, my eyes widening as I look around.

" _Thank you,"_ he mouths back, taking out the knife and grabbing a backpack, before sprinting off to the horizon.

Alexis aims her bow at the man from Six, killing him in one clean motion. It comforts me that he didn't die a painful death, only one that was quick and painless. Two cannons fire.

An axe hurls behind me, and I barely dodge it, the blade cutting my cheek. I grit my teeth and come face to face with Noah, who looms over me with his axe. "I told you I was going to kill you," he whispers, his eyes dancing with the need to kill _me_. He must have gotten the axe from when I was paying attention to the boy from Three. "And now you're going to die, painfully. Just like the bitch you are, you deserve it."

I sweep his legs, making him topple over. "You cunt!" he hisses. I prepare my knife over his heart, about to end this, but his arm grabs me, pulling me down. My knife clatters to the cool metal ground, my head hitting the ground hard. I wince. "I'm going to kill you, slow, painful, a whore's death, just like you deserve."

I spit in his face, and he grabs the knife I dropped, tracing my arms with it, not quite cutting my jacket yet, but close enough to be aware that it's there. His left hand grips my wrists over my head, keeping me still, his legs on my legs. He's got me pinned. I'm going to die. I close my eyes, trying to think of one last way to get him off me… A cannon fires in the distance, and I hear something running over to us.

Noah is suddenly ripped off me, and gets punched in the face by a very angry Caydin. "I should kill you right now," he hisses, his usual golden eyes red with anger. I get up, and Caydin grabs me. "You motherfucking bastard, I should kill you right here right now. You tried to kill her!" Noah is pinned against the wall of the mansion, weaponless, with Caydin's hand wrapped securely around his throat. "But she should kill you instead."

Caydin hands me his sword. My eyes widen. "This is your favourite weapon-"

"I don't care," he seethes. "Kill him. Right now. Harps, kill him."

"Harps?" Noah gurgles, blood rushing from his mouth. "Wow, the whore has you wrapped around her finger."

"Harper, if you don't kill him right now, I will, and it won't be pretty," he warns. I take a deep breath, lifting the lightweight sword and running it through Noah's chest.

"Goodbye Noah," I whisper softly. Caydin would have killed him the same way he promised he would kill me, minus the whore's death part. The cannon fires, followed by another one. I hand Caydin back his sword, but he pulls me closer.

"Are you okay?" he murmurs, checking my cheek out.

"I'm fine," I say. "He just got me good, I was preoccupied with a kill. Sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'm not letting you out of my sight, okay? We're no longer safe, Harper, not until one of us is out alive. You know that, right?"

I nod. "Thank you."

Caydin gives me a little half smile before giving me back the belt of knives I dropped. I wonder if he's worried about what Rhea is thinking. I know for a fact that his mother must have covered her eyes. Alexis glances back briefly, her blue eyes cutting into me. I sigh, this isn't going to be easy. Caydin has loyalties to his partner, and I'm getting in between it. He might get hurt because of it, or Alexis would. But they're highly trained, and he's got both of our backs. I know that for sure.

We go back to survey the bodies. I close my eyes when I see Leona's own, her mouth opened in a blood curdling scream, before closing her eyes and kissing her forehead. I try to fix her jacket around the wound, trying to cover it, so it would look like she was just sleeping. Not dead. Anemone didn't murder her, and she wasn't in these games.

No one saw. Nine people are dead. The games have commenced.

* * *

 _Ceemore Miller, 13_

 _District Three Male Tribute_

* * *

Techna tried her best to prepare me, but no one was ever going to be ready for this. All those times on the train where she played videos of previous arenas, previous mutts, different types of wildlife and modifications were gone to waste. There was nothing that could truly ever make me ready for this moment.

All I can see is white, anyway. Foggy, murky white, so pure yet terrifying that it makes me clam up and want to scream. My left ear rings from the explosion beside me. I breathe a little harder, my breaths coming out as pants. Someone is already dead.

 _5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Let the 25th Hunger Games begin!_

The gong sounds in my head, and I freeze a little. My brain is telling me to move, but I don't. Sweat trickles down my forehead, my palms clam up. _Go!_ Techna's yelling in my ear, furiously, but I can't. My body isn't responding to my brain, I'm just there. Not moving.

 _Oh my god oh my god oh my god I'm going to die._

 _Goddamnit Ceemore move!_ I hear Techna screaming now, her voice edging desperate. My eyes just widen even more, I try to move my legs, but I can't. This isn't what I thought it was, no, if it was a forest or mountain or lake or hell, even a volcano, then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be so terrified as I was before. But this is eerie, so close to home, something I _know_. I saw it on the train rides, when we first entered this living hell. I saw it on tv since I was a little kid, thinking about how I'd want to be here someday, if the creeps and weirdos weren't here.

Because amongst the fog clearing up, showing the misty, golden fountain with crystals and rubies and all the luxuries you could only dream of, is the stunningly white mansion in front, with golden rails on the balcony. The front doors are wide open, things inside.

 _The cornucopia_.

All of the pedestals follow a smooth, black road to the cornucopia, some looping around the fountain. There are huge skyscrapers behind it, but I'm too scared to go near them. No. In and out. In and out. That's the plan. Techna is the most brilliant victor there is, and if she says that's the plan, then I should stick to it. I don't want to die.

If you turn to the right and squint, you can see beige, and hear waves crashing down something. I make sure I don't want to go there, there most likely would be some weird type of mutt lurking around there. To the left, there's wind whistling, howling even. I make a mental note not to go there either. That leaves only one option left. I'll have to go behind, and figure out a plan from there.

With my full plan finally in motion, my legs finally start moving, right as a silver arrow whizzes towards me. I barely have enough time to dodge as the girl from Two, nocks another, aiming it at me. No. When I was younger, Lance and I used to play dodgeball, but with rocks. His friends would aim them at me, laughing at the _ugly, loser Ceebore_ , but I could dodge fairly well because of that. And the time Lance made me join track to make him look better.

I never thought I would be so grateful for my popular, bully of an older brother.

Another silver arrow comes my way, and I run more to the left, around the fountain, dodging it barely. The girl sighs and runs, probably assisting with another kill. I sigh in relief, thank god for that.

The girl from Five sobs in front of me as she stands over the dead body of her ally. I chew my lip, she was nice I guess, but she has to move on. _Go,_ I mouth to her. Her wide hazel eyes start to tear up more, and I gesture towards the bloodshed and the Careers. _Do you want to die?_ I ask. _Move! Go on, you can live!_

She finally seems to understand, and with a little look at her dead district partner's body, she sprints off. The boy from Four starts chasing after the girl, and I pick up one of the rubies off the fountain and throw it at the back of his head to distract him, hiding myself behind the fountain. He doesn't see me, and the girl from Five is safely off to the crashing waves, away from all of the bloodshed.

"You incompetent child!" I can hear her shrill voice coming towards me. The clothes we were given did not suit her frame anyway possible, making her look worse than anything you can think of. Her eyes, so ugly yet evil at the same time, glares down heavily at me. I don't gulp. I don't scurry away. Ms. Wardong doesn't scare me, not anymore. She is a powerless waste of space now. "You stupid, son of a bitch didn't seem to die yet. Oh, you stupid stupid child. A bastard. I hope you just _die_ right now."

" _Amy_ ," I sneer, crossing my arms and giving a look around the arena. People are still chasing others around. "What's brought you here? Did the Capitol finally let you out of their psych ward?"

She glares, fuming like an angry toad, worse than that Harry Potter character that Grandma used to talk about for our bedtime stories. I think it was… _Umbridge?_ Yes, worse than an Umbridge. I feel like McGonagall now, roasting the stupid female dog. "The disrespect!" she glowers, stalking closer. I feel as scared as I did when Angela tried to jump scare me. So, not scared at all. She raises her pencil at me, and I laugh. "Back at home, I got to hit you stupid little bitches, but now, I guess I can kill you. Good riddance, you always failed my class."

"I didn't fail when I had a teacher who actually had a brain," I retort. What can a stupid pencil do? It's not like it's a pen or anything, just a blunt pencil she probably stole from school.

A knife embeds itself into her stomach, and she shrieks like a banshee. She's bleeding out

I'm so close to something right now, if I only had enough time to reach it and finally shut Amy up… slowly, and I freeze up, turning around to the thrower. It's the pretty girl from Eight, holding another knife, before lowering it. I gape at her, not knowing if she was going to kill me or not. She nods at me, and my mouth drops to the ground, before I realize what she's talking about.

The knife in Amy's stomach. She wants me to take it and do something with it, but I don't know what. I take out the knife anyway, Amy screaming louder than any creature on this planet, and I wince at the sound of her horrible voice. I bring it to her heart before shutting her up forever, and I close my eyes before opening it to the girl from Eight, looking more urgent than ever.

 _Run._ She looks around, and I swallow. No one is seeing this. The girl can go back to the Careers without anyone noticing what she did for me. How she saved me.

 _Thank you_. I take out the knife from the now very dead Amy, and grab a backpack too, the closest one. I don't want to endanger the girl for now though, because she could've killed me but she didn't. She pretended to not see me as I sprinted off.

I look back, though, and to my horror, the girl is being attacked by her district partner. I'm tempted to throw the knife at his back, but I might miss and hit her instead. My aim isn't as good as a Career's.

As I run off, one thing runs through my mind.

 _Why did she save me?_

* * *

 _Dennis Herd, 18_

 _District Ten Male Tribute_

* * *

I can't see anything as my eyes burn. Hell, this was something no one saw coming, not even the best of the best. It's just white, ugly as hell fog, hideous in its purity. It is nothing close to something that's supposed to be pure. It's a disguise for an awful turn of events, no doubt. Nothing beautiful in the Capitol lasts.

The fog doesn't relent as I try to look around for anyone, just anyone. I can't even so much as see my arm, much less the people beside me. My head spins and spins are I crane my neck to look around.

Heather. Where's Heather?

Panic seizes me as I look around, trying to find her light brown hair in the white mist, but the fog will not even lift a bit. My eyes feel dry and itchy as I try to find her. Fear closes around my heart as something crosses my mind. What if Heather's right beside a ruthless Career? They'll kill her!

I can hear sobs nearby, and I take a deep breath in. I hope that's not Heather. Dear God, or whoever's up there, please let that not be Heather. Why are people already crying? It's fruitless, we all want to cry right now. We all really, really, really want to cry.

An explosion sounds off, and I hear a loud sob, something that sounds a lot like Heather. My throat clenches. Thank god that explosion wasn't Heather, thank you so, so much. I clench my fist, cursing. Oh damn, oh damn, oh damn. It's almost time. What the hell is this going to be?

Sweat trickles down my forehead, but it's not even hot. _Holy fucking shit I'm going to die_. No. If I die today, I die. But I'm not going to think about this right now, I'm not. I need to be confident and strong, for Heather. For my mom, wherever she is now.

She would be holding my hand, telling me that it'll all be okay. But it's not. It's not okay Mom, it's not. You're gone and dead, and my father voted for _me_ , his own son, to go into this killfest and die. I miss you so fucking much. I just never said it until now.

 _I'm sorry that I've become a disappointment_.

The gong sounds off, and the fog lifts to show the magnificent Capitol, and the golden and alabaster mansion, where the supplies stand, heaping. This is really happening. Oh god this is really happening.

Immediately, I start running to the cornucopia. "Heather!" I scream, looking for her. "Heather, where are you? It's me, Dennis! Heather! Heather! Heather, come, I'm here!"

My voice feels raw as I see her familiar brown hair bounce as she sprints towards me. "Dennis!" she sobs, hugging me. "Sh- Shannon- she- she- she- _she's dead._ Dennis, that was her explosion. She was right beside me, but when- when the fog cleared, she's was _gone_. Her locket was on my pedestal when I saw it. She- she gave me her locket."

She cries harder, and my eyes widen, looking around. People are starting to get supplies, more importantly the Careers. We're in danger if we just stand here. We need to move. "Sh," I say, "Shannon's lived a very fulfilling life, Heather. She loved you, you know. She wouldn't want you to be crying right now. You've got to be brave, kiddo."

She sniffles. "I- I'm fine. I'll be fine. We have to go. We need to go. I'll be brave. Fo- for Shannon."

I give her a grim smile. "That's the spirit kiddo. Come on, let's go."

We sprint into the heart of the President's Mansion. I grab two packs, both lightweight, and toss one to Heather. The cornucopia is mostly undefended, save for the people rifling through it. I grab a bag of jerky, stuffing it into the bag. Heather grabs two blankets and stuffs them into hers.

"We have to go now," I say. She nods, and we creep out of the cornucopia. A cannon fires as the girl from Four buries an axe deep into the little kid from Ten's chest. The scream is terrifying, bloodcurdling, and Heather's breath hitches. I grab her hand, and tug her forward. We have to keep moving. We need to keep moving.

I look around for _someone_. Watt's running towards us, his old eyes wide but smiles at Heather. I breathe in. Thank god he's still alive. Thank god we're still alive. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so, so much.

We start off again, but the boy from One stands right in front of us. Heather screams as the boy from One grins maniacally at us, his sword huge, shining in the artificial sun. "Going somewhere?" he asks, his eyes glinting with bloodlust.

He swings the sword at me, and I barely dodge, shoving Heather away. I push him back as strongly as I can, but that barely fazes him. He swings again at Heather, but I drag her down, away from it. _She's not getting hurt or killed on my watch_. I kick him hard in the stomach and scramble back. I know what I need to do now.

"GO!" I scream at Heather hoarsely, who's trembling from the might of the blows from me dragging her down and around. "RUN, HEATHER, RUN!"

"Wh- what about you?" she asks, her eyes wide. The boy's getting up and running towards us at a deadly, alarming rate.

"Goddamnit Heather, just go!" I toss her my backpack. "We both can't stay."

Her eyes fill up with tears. "No," she cries. "No no no, Dennis, you can't."

"Please," I say. "Just go. For me."

He makes an advance towards her, and I punch in him the face. He stabs my arm, and I can hear Heather scream. The pain is blinding, and I feel tears well up as I grit my teeth. I need to keep going though. For her. I knee him in the groin, and he doubles over in pain. "Go," I manage, the blood flowing from my arm. "Please, Heather, please run. Live."

She nods. "Thank you," she manages out, choking on her tears, as she sprints behind the cornucopia. I want to scream at her to move, but the Career comes, menacing with his sword dripping with my blood. I want to barf.

"So pathetic," he says. "I'll get the girl after, you know. I make her scream too."

"She's just a little kid, you sick son of a bitch," I grit out, trying to get up. I can only try to hold him back for Heather.

Everything I'm doing will be for her.

His face turns enraged as he stalks towards me. "Never," he hisses, stabbing my stomach. I groan in pain. "Insult my mother."

He kicks my face, and I can't move. He runs off, but not to near where Heather is. "Dennis!" she shrieks, running towards me. "Dennis, oh my god, please stay with me. I have medical supplies in my pack, I can heal you."

"N- no," I cough, bloodying my shirt. "K- kid, d- don't-" my breath hitches, and I choke again, "-waste your life. Y- you gave me m-meaning, and n- now, I'm complete. Th- thank you."

"No!" she sobs into my chest, hugging me. "Please Dennis, stay. I- I need you. I need you so much, you're my best friend. Shannon's gone, I don't know where Watt is, please, live. For me."

I give her a weak smile, softly grabbing her tiny hand in my own. I feel the life draining out from me. "Y- you need to stay strong, okay? F- for m- me. Ne- never ev- ever waste your li- life, kay? You c- can win t-this. I- I know y- you can."

My eyes start slipping. I'm just so tired.

"D- Dennis," she cries. "No, please, don't. _Don't leave me_."

I smile again at her, black spots dancing my vision. " _I'm sorry."_

And I step into the light.

* * *

 _Kayla Nevius, 18_

 _District Nine Female Tribute_

* * *

I got this. I so got this.

As soon as the gong goes off, I'm sprinting to the center of the cornucopia. Some people run away from it, because they think that it'll get them further. Haha, bullshit. It won't help if they don't get supplies, isn't it?

I sprint past the golden fountain, ignoring the absolute beauty of the arena. No, it's game time. I need to do this. I can kill. I can be brave.

No. I will survive. I've loved these for the longest time, and now it's to pay up for the times I've always watched the games. I really can do this. For my family. I'll come back for my annoying little siblings, because that's what I'll do.

I'm going to dominate this. There is no room for errors.

I dodge so many people, seeing the guy from Six being taken down by a mere arrow. _Pathetic_. I go into the cornucopia, and admire the beauty and detail of the mansion.

This is so much better than a forest.

I crane my neck to look for the hot guy from Four, and _damn_ , he looks so sexy stabbing the guy from Five with a spear. Cannons fire left and right, and as the boy from Eight slams his district partner, I know that's when I make my move.

The cornucopia is widely undefended now that the pretty girl (who's most likely a bimbo anyway) from Eight is probably going to die from her own partner's hand. Hey, if I was watching this at home, it would be so much fun. The hot guy from Two (who the Capitol thinks is the star player for the games, but his partner would make it farther because that's what always happens in these games) is standing over the guy from Twelve, storming over to the Eights.

I have to tear my attention away though, because if I want to make it further, even though I would, I need to start moving right now.

I grab a spear and two backpacks, slinging one on each shoulder, and start jogging out. I make it past the fountain when Two (the female, because the hot guy is probably killing one of the Eights) stands to me, with her arrow nocked. She shoots it at me, and I stick the backpack in front of me, blocking the arrow.

I grin to myself. Huh, maybe she is not as good as her partner. She fires another arrow at me, which I block again with my backpack. She's getting on my nerves. I need to kill her right now.

I sprint at her, my spear ready to stab her in the heart, but another spear knocks it away, putting a deep gash in my arm. The hot guy from Four is glaring at me, and I gape at him. _Why the hell did he do that?_

No matter. I hit the girl from Two in the face, and she groans, before her blue eyes flash with determination. She punches my nose, then straddles me, pinning my arms down. For a second, I wish that Stupid Sickle was here to help me out. Or Rosemary.

I struggle, kneeing her, and she hisses, taking the bow from her back and using the string to choke me. She presses it down, her eyes completely devoid of emotions. I struggle more, but she applies more pressure. I gurgle, blood coming out of my mouth.

It _hurts_.

She wraps it around my neck, making it harder and harder to breathe. God, someone help me.

Eventually, the pain stops.

The cannon fires.

* * *

 _Blair Wild, 20_

 _District Eleven Female Tribute_

* * *

Ashe's eyes are filled with tears as we jog away from the cornucopia. The lights of the Capitol are bright still, and we're still in it, but on the edge. My arm still is bleeding from the knife the bitch from Eight threw at me.

Anastasia is silent as she assesses the area around us. "We're kind of in a field. Like, if you look behind us, we're kind of in the Capitol, and kind of in a sort of agriculture field."

I look. My eyes widen as I gasp. It was… _so familiar_. I ran around that very same field when I turned 18 and was free from the orphanage. Nell laughed so much, we had so much fun doing that together.

It hits me like a ton of bricks. We're really here. This isn't home, this is an arena. "The arena-" I rasp out. Ashe looks at me emptily, while Anastasia's eyebrows furrow.

"What about the arena?" Anastasia asks. Ashe just looks down.

"It- it's of Panem."

"Really?" Anastasia ask. "Sure, there's the Capitol right there, but if anything, the arena's the Capitol."

"No," I say. "This is- this is Eleven. This is- well, it's like my home. My district. This is a model of Panem."

Anastasia is silent, but Ashe finally speaks up. "I- I think Blair is right," she says quietly.

I smile gratefully at her. "We should get you bandaged up," she says, taking the pack out. She grabs the salve and bandages, and disinfects the wound. I clench my teeth as it stings and burns.

Anastasia stands up, taking the sword she grabbed from the cornucopia with her. "I'll scout the area for somewhere we can stay. We can't just lie down in open fields."

"Yes, we can," I grit out, as Ashe cleans the wound. "Or at least wait for us to be done. I don't trust you to be all alone."

Anastasia blanches, her eyes widening. "Don't trust me? Well excuse me, but I'm the only one with Career training. I can defend myself, and plus, where would I run? All of the supplies are with you and Ashe right now, I'd have to be an idiot to leave right now."

"Well, you rejected the Careers," I retort. "That put a huge target on your back. How are we going to be sure that you won't just run off with them and beg for their forgiveness."

"Beg for their forgiveness?" she scoffs. "Like hell would I do that! My district partner and at least half of them want to have my head on a spike for abandoning them. It's a death wish if I was to go back to _them_."

"Blair, just drop it. Please," Ashe begs, her eyes filling with tears again. My arm is bandaged up now, Ashe did a good job with it.

"Why?" I ask, looking straight at Anastasia, who glared back at me, crossing her pale arms. "You can't seem to possibly trust her too, right?" Ashe is silent, looking down at the ground while clenching her fists. I laugh. "She's _one of them_ at the end of the day. She's someone who trained for this _all of her life_. You can't even doubt that she is doing something behind our back, like kill us in her sleep."

"Blair, stop." Ashe warns, her eyes widening.

Anastasia glares heatedly at me. "Seriously, kill you in your sleep? You must be insane, Blair. Backstabbing is immoral."

"You say that now," I start, stepping closer to the prissy One girl, "but when you're about to dig that sword in my back, I'll know that you will always, no matter what you say, will be one of them."

Anastasia clenches her fists, biting her lip before opening her mouth. Ashe steps between us before anything happens.

"Would you just stop it now Blair!" Ashe exclaim. "We're all in this to win, yeah. But we all know that killing each other on the first day won't do us any good. So would you both _grow up_ and start going?"

I scoff. "And when will you start to grow up? You've been crying about Leona since she's been killed by the girl from Four. You need to _get over her_. She's dead, and she's not coming back."

Her head whips towards me, blue eyes filled with rage. "Oh, don't get me started on that," she warns.

"Or what?" I roll my eyes.

She jabs her finger at me. "Just because you were an orphan and didn't have a family doesn't mean that everyone didn't. Leona was a little girl, and she died _in pain_ and _alone_ , because she was looking for _us!_ So sue me if I feel guilty about her death. Not everyone's as emotionless as you."

Anastasia puts a hand on her shoulder, looking down. I gape at Ashe. "Ashe, I'm so sorry-"

"Save it," she says, looking out at the field. She sounded so empty "We should start scouting the area, anyway. Let's go."

And for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to say anything more.

* * *

 **Hey, we're at the bloodbath! I killed off around a third of the tributes, dang. I really loved this chapter, I don't know, but I feel super proud of not taking an entire century to update, just around a month lol. I really hoped you all loved it, because there was a lot of action.**

 **I don't know when the next chapter will be out, but I assure you it won't be next year (yep, that's pretty vague). This story will be continued until it's done. Anyways, what did you all think of Endgame? All I can say is that I cried the entire movie through XD.**

 **I wrote most of this instead of doing homework, so yeah. Haha, I should not do that again.**

 **So... let's see who died, amiright? (Nine people, wow, that's a lot)**

 _24th- Shannon Farley, District Six Female, killed by mine explosions_

Shannon was an absolute angel. She was kind, loving, and an actual grandma. So, she was great. I loved her a lot, and she was an absolute delight for the games, selfless to the very end. She is finally with Lucian again, and that makes me really happy, even though she's had to die. At least she's happy now, and probably having a grand old time enjoying herself wherever she is. She loved and loved and loved, and saved someone's life by telling people to vote for her. laurenyeeann, if you ever want to submit another tribute, I'll try to fulfill them. But thank you for submitting such an amazing character.

 _23rd- Leona Allerton, District 10 Female, killed by Anemone Williams_

You were such a cinnamon roll, oh my god you were a streak of sunshine. So painfully naive, too, but you had great allies, some of which who really loved you like a little sister. You were so adorable, and even though you died so early, I really, really wanted you to make it further, but then your allies needed some motivation to push them forwards. I'm sorry you were alone and scared in your final moments, but your friends and allies all really miss you. Author-Hime, thank you for submitting such an amazing tribute, and I'm sorry that I couldn't flesh her out fully.

 _22nd- Dennis Herd, District 10 Male, killed by Platinum Worth_

You had one of the greatest arcs in the entire plot so far. You went from someone who was super selfish, hateful, and regretful, to someone who protected a little girl to your very last breath. You did everything you could to ensure that Heather would make it, and even when you knew that you were outmatched with Platinum, you fought to the very end, trying to make sure that she would be safe. You truly became selfless, and was one of my favourites to write. I really hope that you loved the way Dennis turned out Team Shadow, and that I'll hope to see for you for another SYOT!

 _21nd- Amy Wardong, District 3 Female, killed by Harper Regalia and Ceemore Miller_

I hated you. The end. No, lol, that wasn't it. Haha, I wish. But you were an amazingly funny character to write. She was super hilarious, from being so self absorbed to super psychotic, you would be someone most people would steer away from. You were an awful teacher too, but everyone loved to hate you, because why not? You were absolutely tear jerking funny, and Ceemore was the one to end you at the moment (with a little help with Harper, but yeah, you get the idea), so oh, the irony. Thank you TheNoobyBoy/Tristan494 for giving me an absolutely hilarious character, and I hope to be able to have another tribute of yours!

 _20th- Ford Denholm, District 6 Male, killed by Alexis Penn_

Ford was someone I really enjoyed to read about but someone I never did really well with writing in my opinion. I feel like I could have done a better job with him. You had an amazing family and relationship with Shannon, but was mostly reserved and kept to yourself. Thank you Author-Hime for Ford.

 _19th- Watt Emerson, District 5 Male, killed by Elias Bryan_

You were the single greatest character in this SYOT. Yup, end of sentence. Absolutely great. I loved you, you were such a grandpa, friendly, brave, and you loved people so fiercely. You essentially were fearless at the end of the day, trying to get to Heather so she won't be alone crying over Dennis, but you died so early. I'm sorry. MiniMustache, I hope I did Watt justice with this, he was absolutely amazing and kind and I hope that I could work with another one of your tributes after this SYOT.

 _18th- Shadow Tin, District 12 Male, killed by Caydin Armon_

Shadow was someone I felt like I never really got right, you know? On one hand he had so much potential to go further, but at the same time, I felt like he was going to die prematurely. I always had a hard time understanding what I wanted to do with him, but then I guess I just killed him off. He was so closed off and broken after his family's death, and so isolated from the rest of the world. I hope you're satisfied with how Shadow turned out, Clover.

 _17th- Noah Weaver, District 8 Male, killed by Harper Regalia and Caydin Armon_

You were such a hater lol. You really, really hated Harper, and that's why I was really itching to have her kill you. I don't know, but yeah, that's what happened. You were super dangerous, borderline psychotic, but you were really fun to write. MiniMustache, thanks for Noah. He was super fun to write, and I hope I did a good job writing him.

 _16th- Kayla Nevius, District 9 Female, killed by Alexis Penn_

You were really something, weren't you? You were a games super fan, and that was something especially interesting because you were from the outer districts. You were either going to be so OP or so weak, but I put you in the middle, I think. Honeyburst, Kayla was so fun to write, honestly, she was a joy. I was going to have Elias kill her because of that moment from the third training day, but then I decided Alexis because they're kind of similar in the fact that Alexis and her are bother fans of the games. *shrugs*

 **Alliances:**

 **Careers: Platinum, Alexis, Caydin, Elias, Anemone, Harper**

 **The Baby(less)sitters' Club: Anastasia, Blair, Ashe**

 **Loners: Ceemore, Willow, Leer, Sickle, Day**

 **Until next time! May the fourth be with you XP!**

 _~Ata_


	25. Day I- Let's Get Down to Business

_**Day I**_

 _Let's Get Down to Business_

* * *

 _Anemone Williams, 22_

 _District Four Female Tribute_

* * *

"Nine people are dead." Platinum kicks a body over. The boy from Ten's eyes are glazed over, blood leaking from his mouth. I smirk, taking a shiny spear and admiring it, before putting it down. "So we've got nine left."

"Okay," Caydin nods up from his conversation with Alexis, whose blue eyes bear into the horizon. The Twos are sharp, assessing the environment around them. I'll have to be careful taking them out, but that plan is for later. We have to focus on the real deal right now. "Scavenge the bodies for any supplies, we might as well get a jumpstart. Harper and Elias, take an inventory of what we have in the cornucopia. We should make a move on it, get on top of the game."

Eight gets up from her brooding to comply to Caydin's orders. I hold back a snort; Princess has finally gotten off her high horse because her fuckbuddy told her too? I'm itching to take my axe and ram her head off her skull, but if I do that, I'm going rogue. Even if I kill the district lowlife, Caydin and most likely Alexis will gang up on me. I'm good, the best Four's ever had in my opinion, but even I can't withstand the might of two highly trained vicious tributes from Two.

That's why I lay low. I can't risk having the Twos in the way for now. If I come across as agreeable and not opposing to them, they won't feel the need to take me out first when the pack inevitably splits up, most likely into good ol' fashioned doubles. I highly doubt the lowlife will be alive by then anyways.

There is nothing notable with the corpses. Just packs and other useless things. I kick the girl from Nine's body for good measure, just to get my frustration out. We need to get moving.

Elias is admiring the spears, eyeing the others as well. I grinned at him, but I know that it's not a time for a good fuck. I don't doubt that he'll be down for it anyway, I'm pretty irresistible. "Anything interesting?" he asks carelessly and he mimics throwing the spear.

Alexis shakes her head. "Nothing that we know of. We should probably make a move of it soon, people could be lurking around the cornucopia."

"If they're smart, they won't," Platinum snorts. Alexis' eyes pierce into him as she frowns. "I just think it'll be more convenient if we stay here for a day, just getting everything in order. Oh, and to let people sleep off their injuries."

"You're hurt?" Alexis' eyes are wide in disbelief.

"Of course not," Platinum says easily, jabbing a finger over at Harper, "but Princess over there was slammed into walls not too long ago by her crazy district partner. I don't think she'll be any help if she's injured. We should explore this place, see what the groundwork looks like."

"I'm not hurt," Princess says, her mouth in a determined line, "plus, people are most likely far away from here by now. They've got a head start from the bloodbath. Maybe just hunt around the area to find people."

Caydin frowns. "That's not a bad idea. Maybe half of us could go look for people and the other half can stay here to settle in."

Platinum grabs a machete. "I'll go hunt then." He flashes a vicious smirk. "I need more kills anyway."

"Well, if you put it that way," I grinned, taking a cloth from a pack and polishing off my axe, "then I'm going hunting too. Never miss out on the opportunity, anyway. Maybe we'll see some pretty flowers."

Elias laughs at that and I throw him a wink. "I'll stay back here."

"I'll stay behind and oversee the operation back here," Alexis declares. I suppress rolling my eyes at that. _Of course you would_ , I almost snark at her, but don't.

"Okay, then I'll go with Platinum and Anemone then. Harper will stay here with Alexis and Elias." Caydin grabs a broadsword from one of his many, testing the weight before taking another one.

Alexis nods. "Be back at least at sunset. We should see who's left and make a list."

Platinum comes over to me as we start to set off. Caydin takes the lead, and Platinum and I walk behind him. Might as well get him a false sense of security for now. "Going to find this whiny twelve year old that got away at the last moment," he explains, shrugging off an imaginary bug. "Her stupid ally, the Ten Boy, was too annoying and persistent. Even tried to fight back, what a joke."

I snort, my lips curling up in amusement. "Even tried an old trick in the dirty book," he winks, "but don't worry, everything's fine."

"Had another little girl, screamed so loud even the backwards lowlifes from Twelve could hear her." He laughs. Caydin looks behind over to us, and then shrugs and trudges back in the lead. "Her allies weren't coming for her though, which was a shame. I wish I could have killed Anastasia when I had a chance."

"How do you know I'll let you get her? She's my district partner, not yours. No one deserves their honour back more than me." His blue eyes flashed dangerously, but I know he won't harm me yet. Not until it was down to lower numbers at least.

"Hm," I smirk. "Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll let you have her. But because I'm feeling generous right now, I'll save the little girl for you. Caydin can't have all the fun you know."

I send him a wink as he laughs. "Darling, don't underestimate what's coming."

* * *

 _Ashe Ellwood, 20_

 _District Twelve Female Tribute_

* * *

Tears trek down my face as we search through 'District Eleven'. The revelation of the arena is something different, definitely much scarier than the idea of a beach or forest or mountain. It's pretty hot under the sun, and the ground is dry. Blair leads the way because she 'technically' lives here, so she knows what she's doing. Unless she's leading me and Anastasia to our dooms, then, I will totally haunt her in the afterlife.

Leona's scream still dances in my ears, seeing the girl from Four rip the axe out, giving a laugh and snicker as she sprints away from Leona's body, not even giving her another glance. How she didn't even feel remorse for killing a little girl, someone who hasn't even finished school. Someone who was loved by so many people. Who needed to live the world to its fullest, to love it for all of its flaws. Someone who should have seen the beauty of the world, growing up with it.

All I could see when she died was that I failed her, her and Shula. He's the same age as her, and they're nothing alike, but she reminded me so much of him. I failed her. I let her die when I promised that I would keep her safe. I broke a promise, the first one I've ever broken.

We trek along the fields, where it looks so empty, eerily so. Not like a district, or anything close to it. The wind howls and blows, but it doesn't do anything to quench the heat. Back in Twelve, it was super hot in the summer and super cold in the winter, nothing in between. But here in Eleven, I think it's always hot. Or at least appears to be.

The fields are rolling and rolling and rolling, with a few crops that are deemed 'edible' by Blair. We head to the right, where there were tall trees with red, juicy fruit. Apples. My mouth waters, the exhaustion slowly making me tired. We have a canteen of water in our packs, a few strips of jerky, and mostly supplies, but not much.

I get up to grab one, but Blair swats my hand. "What?" I ask irritatedly, my stomach grumbling as I _just need something to eat_.

She sighs, taking a stick and another, then using them to grab an apple down. She inspects it first, twisting it and twisting it before handing it to me. "It might have been poisoned," she explains calmly, taking another two and giving one to Anastasia. I take a bite out of the apple and almost groan with how good my mouth felt from the juice. "You never know."

I give her a small smile, still not happy with her little outburst a few hours ago. "Thanks," I say, taking another bite. _I guess_ hangs in the air in uncomfortable silence, as we chew the apples, savouring it because it might be the only food we might get for a long time.

Blair stared at me while I eat, opening her mouth as if to say something, before closing her mouth and taking another bite. Her brown eyes are sorry, watching me intently, making me feel uncomfortable. Anastasia fumbles as she finishes hers quickly, before shakily getting up.

"Are we almost done?" she asks, looking out at the horizon, biting her lip nervously. "We should probably start looking around even more. You don't know what we could run into here, like other people or mutts."

Blair discards her core, squishing it with her boot, before standing up too. "The only mutts in the orchards back at home were tracker jackers," she explains calmly as if she didn't drop a huge bomb on us. Tracker jackers were venomous, wasp-like creatures that could give your horrible hallucinations from just one or two stings, and kill you if they sting you a lot.

"Tracker jackers?" I repeat, blinking in disbelief as I quickly squish the core of my apple under my boot. I jump off the floor pretty quickly, staring at the trees to look for any tracker jacker nests. "They're here?"

Blair shrugs. "They aren't that bad when you learn how to ignore them. The Capitol left some in Eleven after the Dark Days, maybe to show their power or something. All you need is smoke and white mint leaves and you'll be fine. As long as you're with me, you guys will be fine."

Anastasia bites her lip again, chewing on it intently as she shakes in her place. "I hope so," she mutters, "because white mint is pretty rare, so we should try to ignore them if we can. We should leave soon, though."

"Sure," Blair says, using the twigs to grab a dozen or so apples off the trees. "Ashe, give me the pack, I'll get some apples just in case though, you never know."

I give her the pack, and she puts them in. "Good idea," Anastasia smiles.

Blair gives a strained one back, her jaw shifting ever so slightly before starting to turn away. "Thanks," she replies curtly. I clenched my jaw, pissed off with how Blair is acting, and start to head out of the orchard.

"Let's go," I grumbled. I can hear footsteps behind me as Blair and Anastasia jog to keep up with me. I don't look back though, because _why can't they ever get along_? Seriously, why can't she even pretend to even like Anastasia? She's not that bad!

"Ashe, hey," Blair pants, apparently having kept up with me. "You should slow down, you don't know where you're going. Wait for us."

"Like you know where to go," I snapped, keeping my gaze forward. "This isn't exactly like Eleven, you know. This is just a mini version of it, nothing more. Stop pretending you know what you're doing."

"We just need to be positive," she replies, putting a hand on my arm. "Hey, I'm sorry about what I said about Leona. I know how much she reminds you of your little brother."

I ignore her, trying to tune out her words. She steps in front of me, staring at me right in the eyes. "I know it was super insensitive of telling you off about not being such a crybaby, while I was being a grump. I know this is hard, and it's no excuse that I was being horrible, but I'm really new at this, you know? Having people to care about besides me," she's looking at me straight in the eye. "I'm trying. Ashe, god, I'm trying so hard. We're all friends here, aren't we?"

"Yeah," I finally let out. "We are. Thank you."

"Anyways, we should probably wait for Anastasia." She looks behind me, and I turn around, to find nothing but tall crops. "Anastasia?"

We start to jog back, taking steps to find her. "Anastasia?" I call, scanning the army and Nell at home. "Leona, Anastasia, and _you_ are new to me, and I don't know how to handle this. So, I'm really sorry."

"That's not an excuse at all," I find myself saying. "You've been super immature to everyone but me, and don't think that you sneaking into my room would even give you an excuse for how you've been acting! We're all _allies_ , me, you, and _Anastasia_. And I know that you hate One girls for some stupid reason, but you need to be the one to grow up and accept that she is our ally and a damn useful one! She's only _seventeen_ too for God's sake, we're like three years older than her."

Her gaze drops, sighing before giving me a hug. "I know," she whispers. My eyes widened at the unexpected hug, and I move to pull away, but she keeps me in place. "I know that I'm a jerk, and there is not an excuse for how I've been acting, but know this." She lets ea for her auburn hair. "Anastasia, where are you?"

I hear a groan near me, and Blair and I jog to the source. She's crumpled on the ground, her eyes shut tightly in pain as her leg bleeds steadily. Her mouth is in a tight line. "Oh my god, Anastasia, are you okay?" Blair asks, and I almost looked at her shocked. She gives me a look back, and a small smile. I hesitantly return one.

"Y- yeah," she pants, clutching her bleeding leg as she struggles to sit up. Blair helps hoist her to a sitting position. "J- just a little stab wound, nothing really bad."

She winces as she attempts to laugh, but I blink at her. Just a little stab wound? "Why did you tell us?" I try to keep my voice steady, but it wavers as I try to not freak out. She's bleeding, and it looks worse than Blair's arm. This is not good.

She shrugs. "Didn't want to slow anyone down, you were fighting already. It's nothing I can't handle, this happened before when some girls at the Academy threw a spear and hit my arm."

Blair laughs, and I turn to glare at her. "Anastasia, we're not the girls from the academy," she said calmly, grabbing medical supplies out of the backpack, "we're your allies, and we care if you are stabbed in the leg. It wouldn't slow us down because…" she stares at me meaningfully, " _you are important_."

I gape at her again, but she gives me the gauze and bandages. "Ashe, you patch her up. You're good at medical stuff, well, better than me anyway."

I take it gingerly, taking a cloth with a bit of alcohol and dabbing her wound with it. Anastasia winces. "This is going to hurt a bit," I tell her gently.

"I know," she grits, clenching her fists. I put gauze over the wound and wrap it up with the bandages. "Thanks."

"No problem," I smile at her. "You're our ally, we should look out for each other."

"I know," she whispers. "I'm just not used to having allies. All the girls at the Academy hated me… I never knew what I did besides being myself. All I had was Gigi, and my mom, and my dad. I was so used to having to do things alone."

I wrap an arm around her, and Blair wraps one around Anastasia as well. "Something you need to know is that you aren't alone," Blair says softly, looking me right in the eye.

I smile despite myself, but something heavy looms over my heart. We may be getting along now, but who's to say that is going to continue forward? It took one of us to get severely injured to get us to stop fighting like cats and dogs.

Blair smiles back at me, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly. Anastasia sorts through our supplies, placing them neatly back into the pacs we managed to snag. With the help of Blair, she manages to get on her feet, slinging one of them over her shoulder. Blair takes the sword from her, strapping it to her jacket, and I take the other pack.

"I guess we're off," Anastasia says quietly, staring out into the distance that probably is District Eleven.

"Yeah," I echo back, looking out on the horizon, watching the sun slowly start dipping. "Let's go."

Everything feels okay so far, but my stomach can't help but sink.

 _The Gamemakers never like a boring Game._

* * *

 _Willow Feyr, 16_

 _District Seven Female Tribute_

* * *

 _Grab something, just anything, then run the hell out_.

My dad's last words to me repeated like a mantra, getting my legs to pump faster as I sprinted out of the cornucopia. All those years of running from bullies finally pay off as I sprint away, the light of the Capitol slowly fading away as I get deeper and deeper into the brush. The thick, scraggly bushes slowly become tall, beautiful trees, but I don't stop, not until I'm confident that I am far, far away from the bloodshed.

I lean against a tree, clutching the medium pack and a weird gun-like weapon. I grabbed the first things I saw, not knowing what they were. Now, I'm not sure what to do with them. I open the pack, desperate for a little bit of water, or anything really to keep me hydrated.

 _Wouldn't want to be the dumbass who dies of dehydration anyway_ , I think wryly, sifting through my pack to find something useful.

What's in there isn't too bad. A sleeping bag, a filled canteen of water, iodine, which I think is to purify water, some weird goggles or whatever, gloves (what for?), and an umbrella. I almost laughed despite the situation. A freaking _umbrella_ , just great. So useful.

Can you hear the sarcasm?

"Great, I must be going crazy," I murmur. The hot sun beats down on this part of the arena. "Might as well have something to drink. Oh, and now I'm talking to myself. Yay!"

I grab the canteen and take two small sips, just in case this is the only water in the arena. A small part of me knows it's not, because why would the Gamemakers put iodine in a pack without having actual water in the arena? But I know better. They could be messing with us for all I know. It's better to be safe than sorry.

I stare at the gun, wondering what it does. It can't be an actual gun with bullets, but we did have blow dart guns in training, so maybe it's that? I see the opening and turn it away from myself, finding a crack in the gun. The gun opens up to show fifteen darts, not covered in anything that I can see, but I don't touch the blade. They're not poisoned, I conclude after a few minutes of inspection, but I could make them.

I snap the gun closed, clipping it to my pants. I pack up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, ready to leave. I just have to find aconitum, better known as _wolfsbane_ , to coat the tip of the darts.

My dad told me about this a long time ago. It was offhand, just a little comment that he made when he, Mom and I went for a hike on my thirteenth birthday. We were hiking through the forests, not getting bothered because A) Forests are very legal to be in because that's how our district brings in income, and B) Dad's a Victor, a living legend in a sort of way, the first ever Victor of Seven and the first to win outside of the 'wealthier' districts.

He had stopped in front of purple flowers, the top of which shaped like bulbs, and took my hand to show me. I remember wanting to touch them, only for Dad to tell me about what aconitum was, and if I eat it, I could die from heart and lung failure.

" _Back in the days before Panem," Dad explained, staring at the purple flowers, his voice dropping to a whisper while saying the next part, "before_ America _, our ancestors used this plant called aconitum, nicknamed wolfsbane because it was believed to kill feral werewolves, to kill off their enemies. This was in a time where there were kings and queens ruling the world, and people thought tomatoes were poisonous, even though it was the lead that was killing them."_

 _My mom lets out a small chuckle, probably about how foolish people used to be back in the day. "What you would do is coat your blade with its poison. Make sure you're wearing gloves, because touching wolfsbane will kill you within minutes. Only remember this in a life or death situation. Wolfsbane can kill you if you eat it, eat anything it touches or touch it. Be careful, okay Willow. It's better if you learn this for the future. Who knows what's going to happen then."_

I start up for the distinctive purple flower, putting my gloves on just in case I brush into it. I see nothing, though, the search for wolfsbane feels pointless. What if the Gamemakers are just pulling my strings, just like every other Hunger Games in history.

My eyes spot a boot sticking out from a bush. I draw my eyes around my surroundings, looking for anyone, my ears trying to listen in to what's around me. I'm alone, except for that boot. Is that a person, or just a trap?

I take my dart gun out, just in case, putting it in front of my index finger, resting on the trigger. My eyes darted around nervously as I walk towards the boot. You can never be too careful.

"Wi- Willow?" my district partner says. His eyes are clenched in unbearable pain, his hand clutching his heart as he slowly breathes in. My eyes turn to the flowers over him. _Wolfsbane_. "Is that you?"

"Leer? What- what happened?" That's a stupid question on my part, but one can't be too sure. Leer's breaths become shallow, his eyes slowly fluttered open then closed again. He's dying.

"Ran- ran into some flowers-" he manages, his eyes shut again. "Didn't see them, but touch it with my hand. Think they're poisonous. It hurts." He lets out a groan, and I wince, clipping the gun to my belt.

 _Found it_ , a voice in my head says sarcastically. I mentally will that thought away.

"-I can't breathe," he wheezes, "I can't feel anything. _Help_."

 _Effects of touching wolfsbane: paralysis in the cardiovascular and respiratory areas, dizziness, sweating, nausea, etc._ my brain supplies unhealthily. _Victims will die within two to six hours after contact with it._

"Do you have charcoal?" I ask, rifling through my supplies. Maybe I missed it, but the chances of that is unlikely. Hopefully Leer has something to help.

Charcoal alone would only help is administered in the first hour after contact. What's ideal in this situation is atropine, but getting that in the districts alone is nearly impossible, save for the occasional wealthy merchant. Being sponsored in the Games this early on, especially for a non-Career district, is nearly impossible.

"Pack," he croaks, moving his eyes over beside him to the right, where it lays beside a set of hatchets. My eyes flicker over them, itching to grab them, but I can't be selfish now. He's my district partner, it's the right thing to do. I take it and search through it, looking for a pack of dark powder. There's nothing.

Leer's going to die.

Something rustles to the left, and I shove Leer behind me, taking my dart gun out. A blond guy comes out with his hands in the air, a scythe slung on his back. My jaw clenches. It's the guy from Nine. His district partner died in the bloodbath.

"Hey," he says, walking towards me slowly, his hands still in surrender position, "I'm not here to kill you or attack you, I'm not nearly as armed as you are. I think we- is your friend okay other there?"

My eyes go back to Leer, whose groaning and heaving. I bite my lip, tears threatening to spill, but I maintain a brave face. I might die if I'm not on guard, even though the fact that Leer might die because I failed to save him lingers in the air. "It's none of your business," I say, keeping my eyes back on him.

"I know, I know, it's just- he touched wolfsbane, didn't he? Do you have any charcoal? That could work and get rid of the effects quickly." Nine stares at Leer, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Of course I don't, or he wouldn't be in this situation right now," I sighed, pulling at my ponytail. "Do you have any that he could use? He'll die if you don't."

Nine pats down his pockets, and then frowns. "No, I don't. Sorry. Maybe they have some in the arena. We could look if you want, but then we'll have to lug around your friend."

" _We_?" I exclaim, a smile on my face.

"Well, I think we would survive longer if we're not trying to kill each other and team up instead, don't you think? Just a thought," he adds quickly, his ears turning red. I can't help but grin.

"Yeah, I guess we're allies then," I say softly, a smile permanently etched onto my face.

 _An ally_. The closest thing I might ever have to a friend. And I'm going to try the best I can to keep him alive.

"Oh! I almost forgot! I'm Sickle."

"Willow. That's Leer." Sickle's eyes widen as he stares at my district partner, turning almost white.

I look over to my partner, only to see him turn paler. "Oh no no no no no no," I moan, tears filling my eyes as my hands search for his pulse, which is only getting weaker. "Stay away, we're going to find something, okay! Stay awake, _please_." My voice cracks, and Sickle pats my back.

"Willow, I think it's his time," he comforts.

 _You don't know anything_ , I almost bite, but hold it back. No. He's my ally, I can't do that.

And deep down, I know he's right.

"Y- yeah," I stuttered.

"W- Willow," Leer chokes out, "t-take care o- of my br- brothers."

His brothers? Leer has brothers? I hardly know him, he can't ask me to do that! "I don't even know if I'm going to live," I whisper, tears spilling down my cheeks.

He smiles weakly. "Just p- pro- promise me you will, okay? A- and N- Nine, t- take care of h- her, okay? I m- may have be- been like crap to her, but sh- she deserves to li- live."

"Okay," Sickle nods. "I'll try."

"Good." A ghost of a smiles traces his lips, and his eyes slowly flutter shut.

"I- I'll try," I tell him, but he's gone. Dead. Deceased. Done for.

 _Boom_.

I stare down at my hands, where Leer's imaginary blood smears them. I could have saved him. I could have done more. I should have begged sponsors to help him, instead of standing there like a total moron. I should have-

"Stop beating yourself over it, it wasn't your fault." Sickle's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

My cheeks get hot with anger. "What do you know?" I say bitterly. "What can you possibly know about having someone's fucking blood on your hands!"

I thought he was going to hack me with his scythe for a second there. I definitely deserve it. But all he does it pat my back soothingly. "Were you the one who made his touch the aconitum?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Then you didn't kill him. And I don't think your family would want you to mope here, while you can be fighting for your life. C'mon, pick yourself up, I've seen you train. Be yourself, not a mopey version."

I take a deep breath, taking my gun out, plucking the wolfsbane with a gloved hand before taking a dart and coating it with the poison. Sickle gapes at me, but takes the feathered part of the dart from me to put back in the gun before handing me another one.

The sun dips after a while, but by that time, Sickle and I are done poisoning the darts. I take Leer's hatchets and hand Sickle his pack before we start heading out, getting away from the wolfsbane. I give Leer one last look before leaving his body.

If I win the Games, it would be because I need to tell Leer's brothers how much their brother loved them.

* * *

 _Dayley "Day" Stockholm, 23_

 _District Eleven Male Tribute_

* * *

 _Boom._

 _Boom._

 _Boom._

This happens another six times. Nine people are dead, most likely killed in the bloodbath. I'm lucky I'm not one of them.

The air in this alley is thick and damp. Ash drifts off regularly, creating little black specks in the distance. I know I can't stay here, the Careers are probably out there hunting for another tribute.

I wonder if running straight for the ruins was a good idea. I have no supplies, food or any strategy for the next days to come. I wouldn't be surprised if the Careers found me in this alley, shivering to the bone and starving.

Another gush of wind passes through the alley, but I can't feel the cold anymore. My stomach is growling and my mouth is as dry as sandpaper. I need to move, but every bone in my body is cold and weak. I wouldn't be able to last five minutes out there alone.

My thoughts drift to my Thea and her games. I wonder what she would think of me now, weak and cold sitting on the ground of a stone alley. She's probably ashamed of me, urging me to go out and do _something_.

In a perfect world, I would be relaxed and ready for these games. I would be out hunting the Careers, slitting the girl from Two's throat as vengeance for Thea's death. But this isn't a perfect world; Thea's dead and hunting the Careers is basically suicide.

Thea would never want me to murder someone. She was always gentle and empathetic, never the one to look for violence or revenge.

"I just want to make District 11 a better place," I remember her saying on a bright spring day. "By doing the right thing and that sort of stuff."

I had just smiled and plucked a flower from a nearby bush. An orange lily, the first one of the season by the looks of it. I place it behind her ear as she laughs, causing a smile to form on my face. Thea could always make me smile.

I remember the day of the reaping, feeling good about my chances. I never had to take tesserae, and was confident of not being picked. Thea still needed to take tesserae, but I was positive she wouldn't be reaped too.

When her name was called, my heart had stopped. She was going into the Hunger Games, with a 1 out of 24 chance of making it out. But I was stupid and guilt turned to determination as I was sure that Thea would make it out alive. She had to; she was strong, beautiful and charismatic.

By the sixth day, I was completely sure she would win. There were only four tributes left; Thea, two outsiders and the girl from Two. She could take them out easily.

As the feast is called, I watch Thea climb out of her cave and to the cornucopia. I watched anxiously as she sees the girl from Two and runs. Doubt fills my mind but I brush it off, positive she would make it. She had to.

When Thea's throat was slit, I couldn't breathe. She was dead now, gone like a light. I heard the cries from the people in the square, positive that the district darling would make it out alive too.

My chain of thoughts break and I'm back in the alley. By now my bones are numb and lips are cracked and blue. Thea drifts out of mind, the memories no longer haunting me. I'm alone again.

Realization rushes through me like a bullet to the head. I'm alone, scared, cold, thirsty, starving and numb with haunting memories as my only comfort. Living like this makes me feel like I'm already half dead.

* * *

 _Caydin Armon, 20_

 _District Two Male Tribute_

* * *

I want to punch something in frustration as we come back to the President's Mansion empty handed. Platinum and Anemone seem just as frustrated, but I can't help but want to scream. I stalk back to the Mansion in record time, finding a small branch and snapping it in half, kicking it.

Alexis comes running, her bow out in front of her, but puts it down when she realizes it's me. "What's wrong?" she asks as she takes my broadsword from me and settles down on a fancy chair in the mansion.

I take a deep breath and clench my fists. "The tributes got away," I explained, "and the entire time, I can just see _him_ standing over me, crossing his arms and telling me that 'it's either me or Rhea'. I can't fail Alexis- I just can't. If the other tributes get away, and I die-" my voice cracks, "- _she's_ going to the Games. She's going to become a murderer, just like me."

"You're not a murderer," Alexis says firmly. I stare at her. "Okay, kind of a murderer. But this is a _life or death_ situation, and like hell are you going to let people kill you. You got an _eleven_ , the highest score ever given out in history. You have a huge target on your back, and if you don't kill, you're a corpse on the ground with the rest of the bodies."

"Oh yeah, the bodies," I say. "What happened to them? They weren't there when we came back."

"Elias and I cleaned them away from here. They're all buried somewhere near the lines of District Nine."

"District Nine?" I ask, my eyebrows scrunching together.

"Oh, I didn't tell you that the arena's a map of Panem. We're in the middle, in the Capitol, and it's like a clock in a way. One twelfth of the arena is a district, with us currently in the middle. Harper found a map while she was cleaning out the inventory, and Elias found bedrooms in the Mansion."

"Well duh, it's a mansion."

She rolls her eyes. "So I'm thinking that we stay in for the night, just to recuperate for tomorrow, and as soon as the sun starts to rise, then we split up and go hunting."

"Okay, that sounds good. Where are the others?"

"All inside probably. There aren't any mutts as far as we're concerned, but I'm pretty sure that they're all in the living room right now."

The living room is grand, with gold and white furniture all over the place. Anemone is admiring the glass displays, which have pictures of every victor in history, while Platinum flips through the huge tv in the room. Harper is flopped on a couch with Elias sitting at her feet, staring at a bunch of black things.

"So?" Harper asks, getting up from her flop and sitting up. "Are we staying in for the night or hunting again?"

"Hunting, obviously," Elias says, fiddling with the black object in front of him. "We can't just let the others get settled. They're going to be at their weakest now, anyways."

Platinum drops the remote with a clunk. "For once, I agree with the Princess. We are way too tired to go hunting right now, and we don't know where the others are. They are definitely in other districts by now."

Alexis looks out the window, pursing her lips. Outside is getting pretty dark, and the day's gone pretty quickly. "It's probably best if we stay here for tonight. Tributes are preparing, like Elias said, and they'll be too tired to be on the move to kill. Killing is mainly our job when it comes to this too, so they'll be up all night scared for us if anything."

Anemone scowls, but quickly recovers with a false smile. I don't know what game she's playing, but I don't like it. "So… who's going to take watch first?"

"I will," Alexis volunteers, but I sigh.

"You've done too much anyways, Alexis, you're probably exhausted," Elias points out.

"I'll take watch," Harper says, shooting a meaningful look at Alexis. "We need you in top shape tomorrow, okay? I'll be on the roof, there's a good vantage point from there. Elias can take the shift after me at midnight."

Alexis opens her mouth to protest, but I send her a look to just take a break. "You go Harper."

She grabs a pair of night vision goggles and her set of knives, looking at me briefly before going to the grand marble staircase.

Anemone yawns, taking a pack with her. "Night, I guess."

Platinum nods. "I'm going to explore this mansion then crash."

Alexis gives me a small smile before taking a small pack with her bow and arrow. "I guess I'll go to sleep now. I hope Harper knows what she's doing."

"She does," I insist. "No one's going to attack right now, I'm sure of it."

"Good night then Caydin. You should sleep too, it's been a long day."

"I will soon, don't worry. I think I'm just going to crash here on the couch. Make sure you have a good night's sleep. Okay?"

"Okay." She grins at me while walking up the stairs.

I just fiddle with the remote for a while, wanting to see what the house has to offer. The moon is starting to rise in the sky, and I yawn.

"Seriously dude, you need to sleep." Elias gets up from his spot on the couch.

"What is that?" I ask him. He's been playing with those black devices all night.

He grins at me. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Get some rest bro, you'll need it for tomorrow."

I sigh. "Fine."

As I rest my head on the couch cushion, I pray that my dreams will be kind to me.

The odds are never in my favour. Rhea haunts my dreams, all grown up, in this very house, as she stands over another body. She plunges a sword into the body of an unsuspecting victim, before my father's face comes up again.

" _You failed."_

* * *

 _ **To defeat the Huns.**_ **XD** **Got Mulan vibes after that awesome teaser trailer! Disney's on a roll so far (and taking all of my money!)**

 **So sorry for the wait, I honestly don't know what I'm doing half of the time that keeps me from writing, but time goes by really fast! Again, it's been a decade since I've last written, and we missed Chosen to Die's 1 year anniversary in July! Yay!~ My birthday also passed, which excused two days of not writing, but besides that, I had too many ideas that I didn't know how to execute.**

 **Next chapter will be something different, I think I need a little break from the games, but it will still be about the games. Just, we won't see any tribute points of views. So, that probably will come out faster, but no promises there. Saw Far From Home about a month ago, and my mouth absolutely dropped. Wow. The post credits scenes were just... _wow_. Also, with Phase Four lined up at SDCC '19 (I wish I was there! Also, what about Spider-Man 3? I can't wait after that cliffhanger!) I'm just super excited about upcoming movies!**

 **Whisper's submission form had a mistake that was pretty huge, I forgot the personality! I took that down and put it back up, so just check my profile and it should be under the next SYOT section. If you've already submitted a tribute for Whispers, then just PM me for your tribute if you want them back. If not, I'll just assume you don't want them.**

 **Also, Ed Sheeran's new album No.6 Collaborations Project is amazing! If you like Ed Sheeran, you should check it out! (Or just pop and kind of alternative music?)**

 **Only one person died. I didn't plan this at the beginning, but with the way the story flowed, I realized that it just made sense for me to put it in there. D: So, eulogy!**

 _15th- Leer Golder, District Seven Male, killed by wolfsbane_ _mutation_

Leer, Leer, Leer. You were such a strong character. You never deserved being chosen for the games, yet you were. I was never personally attached to you, but I found you compelling. You were such a good son and brother, and you definitely will be missed, and you lived a fulfilling, yet short, life. I never felt that I did you right, and I'm sorry for that. Sorry platypus27 about the fact that I didn't do Leer right. He will be missed by his family and friends.

 **Alliances:**

 **Careers: Platinum, Alexis, Caydin, Anemone, Elias, Harper**

 **False Sense of Security: Anastasia, Blair, Ashe**

 **The Anti-socials: Willow, Sickle**

 **Loners: Ceemore, Heather, Day**

 **See ya later! ;)**

 _~Ata_


	26. Intermission- Rules of the Game

_**Intermission**_

 _Rules of the Game_

* * *

 _Roman Troy, 19_

 _Victor of the Twenty-Fourth Hunger Games, District Two Mentor_

* * *

"See you guys at the Victor's party." Kirk Casey gets up from his chair, taking a scotch from an Avox and downing it. "My tributes are all dead. Sucks to be you guys."

Beside him, his co-partner Phoebe snorts. "It's better to have tributes alive, especially right after the first day," she snaps, rubbing her temples. She takes a quick look at Roman's screen, where Caydin is sleeping on the cushy white couch in the President's Mansion, before turning her sharp brown eyes back at Casey. "Besides, I'm pretty sure the Capitol is getting bored of you and your pretty boy looks. They wouldn't want you at the next party."

"Oh yeah?" Casey asks smugly. "Just got invited as Sigyn Abbott's date again. You struck out again. But maybe if your boy or girl comes home, I'd lose it. Too bad my money's on One, not the girl but the guy's. Your boy's got his head up in the clouds, I doubt he's going to get it down in time. Plus, the chick from Eight's pretty distracting, if you do say yourself."

Roman stands up, taking a deep breath before glancing back at the screens. A little sponsor tab shows him that there are plenty of people willing to sponsor Alexis and Caydin, but he doubts they need anything at the moment. "How do you know? You haven't got a winning tribute since you've started. Plus, you won by a fluke." Roman can feel his mouth twisting in a sneer.

Casey's eyes widen almost comically. "Wow Troy, calm down. I'm just stating facts. Pretty boy isn't ranked number one, isn't he? And for the exact reason he's going to die. One's got it in the bag, we've all seen the reports."

"I wouldn't count on it," Salton Seabar chimes in, "bets have already been changing, I'm pretty sure Anemone could get it. She is a crowd favourite, with all the looks and figure. Her mum's an Original, she has a better chance of making it."

"Please. If we're going for looks, Princess Eight has it in the bags. Last Capitol chick I banged dyed her hair to look exactly like hers, plus enhanced her eyes to be as purple as the girl's. Anemone is old news compared to the girl." Casey downs his scotch and takes another one. The Avox looks blank as he takes the glass away.

Roman clenches his fists, wanting to retaliate. _No,_ Anemone is going to die because of her arrogance. _Sure_ , Harper is gorgeous and a crowd favourite with her deadly knife skills and brains, _but_ comparing both of the Career girls to Alexis, they have no chance. Alexis is beautiful, fast, smart, and one of the best damn tributes they've had in years, besides Phoebe.

He doesn't realize he's said it out loud before Casey and Seabar turn over to him with a huge smirk on their faces. He almost facepalms but keeps a poker face. "What? Just stating facts."

"Sounds like you're in love with your tribute, Troy," Seabar chuckles. When Hunger Games season comes around, Career Victors get hostile around each other, wanting to bring each other down to benefit their tributes. Every other day of the year they're friendly, but when the Games come around, it's every district for themselves.

Roman almost snorts to that. His little brother's best friend Hartley talks about Alexis almost religiously, so in love with her, and he knows that he'll be crushed if she dies in the games. And then when Roman comes home, his brother is going to bother _him_ about the fact that Alexis died since Roman is _technically_ responsible for her (even though it's more Phoebe than him; he's in charge of Caydin if anything).

He turns back towards his screen, the time looming over him in big red letters. _12:49 AM._ In the left hand corner, three boys with a person whom he presumes is their father sob, wailing about their deceased brother. A quick name check in the corner shows that they are the family of Leer Golder, who just died a couple of hours ago.

Roman sighs, knowing that there are many devastated families out there tonight. Ten dead so far, and who knows how many more will. As long as it's not his tributes. He needs to prove that he can be a good mentor.

Shimmer Midas saunters in on her phone, her golden hair shimmering in the artificial light of the mentors' room. "Hey boys, what did I miss?" she asks while checking her bright red lipstick on her phone.

"Where have you been?" Seaber moves towards her, his face curled in a smirk. "Your tribute so dead that you didn't need to be here?"

Shimmer rolls her emerald eyes, scoffing. "They're all sleeping right now anyways. More like flirting with the citizens for sponsors. Like, are any of you doing work on your tributes? Or am I the only one doing my job _again_."

Phoebe glares at Shimmer, foaming at the mouth. Roman suppresses an eyeroll, Shimmer is one of the most beautiful victors there were, therefore getting more sponsors, but is a total diva. Phoebe can't stand her at all, from what he was hearing for the past days in the Capitol. "And why would you need sponsors for Anastasia right now anyway?" she questions through gritted teeth.

Shimmer laughs. "Not _just_ for Anastasia silly, also for Platinum. He's got a 3-1 bet and the crowd favourite. The _Snow_ siblings are backing him up right now because the _results from the training session_ were leaked yesterday at the dawn of the bloodbath."

Roman almost groans. _The Snows_. Some of the most powerful people in the Capitol. Descended from Dark Days heroes, born into old money. Their influence is what got many people out of the games. Their money is enough to sponsor all the tributes from the past 24 games. Hell, he's pretty sure they sponsored both him and the rest of the Careers last year.

He can hear Phoebe's breath quicken, mostly from anxiety. He feels it. Platinum is essentially a wild card, his file and all the digging they've done on him seems to cover his personality pretty well. They've given their tributes a bit of a warning before, but they don't know how sick and twisted he really could be. "You don't have the popular vote though as a _current Victor_ ," Phoebe taunts, her eyes lighting up. "Roman does. He's the latest one after all. And I guess we should join in the game early, shouldn't we? Just to get a _head start_."

"Oh yeah, sure," Roman says, grabbing his jacket and straightening out his collar. "Caydin and Alexis basically sell themselves anyways, I'm sure we can get more sponsors that are way better than the _Snows_."

Shimmer seethes as Roman gets up. He downs the last of his coffee. Phoebe stares viciously at the One mentor. "Also _Shimmer_ ," she spits the fellow mentor's name, "don't believe everything you hear. Our tributes are more popular that your Platinum, he's too psychotic and unstable. We'll be sure to mention Caydin's _eleven_ and Alexis' _ten_ too. They didn't get those scores for no good reason anyway."

Roman takes that as an opportunity to leave the mentor's room. Fellow victors squabble with each other, well, only the Career victors as the others are mostly keeping to themselves, as Phoebe checks the screens. He's pretty sure it's just him going down anyways, his partner needs to check on their tributes just in case anything happens.

Not like anything would. Everyone's asleep and it's the first, well, technically second, day of the Games.

He's tired, just itching to take a small nap before the tributes wake up in a few hours. However, he can't, because he has another job to do. No rest for the wicked, one would say. And as someone who's fairly new to the game, he needs to prove himself. He doesn't know the rules as well as a season mentor such as Anthony Feyr or hell, even Salton, both of whom brought home tributes and have been in the gig for a long time.

The ballroom of the President's Mansion is extravagant, filled with wealthy Capitolites laughing and talking with one another. He can see a few victors among them, standing out with their duller colours as opposed to the bright coloured skin of the Capitolites.

"Hey Roman." Anthony Feyr walks over to him, a drink in his hand. He looks worried, and only then does Roman remember that Anthony's daughter is in the Games at the very moment. "What are you doing down here?"

He shrugs. "Probably the same thing as you. Don't want to fall behind on sponsors or anything, right?"

His lips quirk up in an attempted joke. Anthony tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Roman coughs, taking a drink from a nearby Avox. "Yeah, need some for my kid." The atmosphere turns darker in the room, and Roman can see Tilver Calix with a random woman on his arm. "Going up anyone, got enough for her anyway. It's a long day, I need a nap before I take over in the morning. Birch is on right now."

Roman nods, keeping an eye on Tilver. "Good night then, Anthony."

As Roman walks past, the older victor grabs his arm. Roman looks over at him questioningly. "Don't wear yourself out kid. I know that you want to prove yourself and everything, but you look like you're going to drop. Just spend five minutes here, nothing more. I think you're covered."

"Thanks," he says curtly, walking over to a crowd of Capitolites. He plasters a charming smile on his face as ladies fawn over him coming.

"Roman!" they squeal. He manages to keep a smile, hearing them squabble about him and his new tattoo and the Games. When the topic of his tributes come up, he manages to stay awake.

"Your tributes are quite amazing. I love them together. Alexis and Caydin make a beautiful team." A woman with sleek purple hair and is paler than the marble on the walls giggles with her friend. He looks above them to show the tributes sleeping. The camera switches from the Careers to the little girl from Five, shivering on the beach of Four.

Roman grins. "Well, I was gifted with such amazing tributes for my first year; with Caydin's eleven and Alexis' ten, I think I might bring home a victor. They are easily some of the best tributes to date."

"Well, I can't argue with that." Tilver Calix strolls in sans the pink woman, winking as some of the women swoon. Roman grits his teeth; the One mentors are really obnoxious this year, trying to break free of their dry spell. They haven't had a victor in seven years. "Alexis is a gorgeous tribute, and, oh I forgot his name, but he's okay too. Like, mediocre if anything, nothing compared to my Platinum."

Roman glares heavily at Tilver when the ladies look at the One victor, before putting back a charming smile. " _Caydin_ got an eleven, the highest score ever given out in Hunger Games history. He even scored higher than you did _and_ Platinum. Only _one other eleven_ was ever given out, and that was over two decades ago."

Tilver looks taken aback for a second, but replaces his expression with his resting face; a smirk. "Didn't think you had it in you, Troy. I thought Phoebe was the one with the rabid anger that Two is _well known_ for."

Roman laughs darkly. "This isn't anything, Calix. Saw your games, wasn't much to learn from you. But you know what they say about One. Makes beautiful but empty tributes. Kind of useless if anything. Isn't that what Anastasia is?"

The other victor glowers at him, but Roman continues, turning over to the crowd of Capitolites forming. "You can't rely on Platinum to be a flawless tribute. He may be predicted first, but with the kind of defect _Anastasia_ was, you don't know if that's actually going to be true. He's _unpredictable_ , and probably like the last fourteen tributes One sent out. And you know where they are? Six feet under. Sent two there myself. So if you want any _reliable_ and _strong_ tributes to put your money on, just contact me or Phoebe for sponsoring details. You know where to find us."

He knows no one was expecting that from _him_ out of all people. That was more of a Tilver type of thing, but Roman was a wild card in terms of personality. He was quiet and stoic, with his only friends really being Phoebe and Mags. He doesn't like to dwell on the past and isn't one to get all angry and up in your face. But, he has a job to do, and he's going to do a damn good one and bring one of his tributes home.

He walks out with his head high and a smirk on his face, as Tilver steps in front of him. "Well, let's see if your credibility holds up," the blonde sneers, dropping the crystal glass on the Avox's tray. "The only thing the Capitol hates more than a disappointment is a liar."

Tilver pushes past him, and Roman sighs, walking out. "Excuse me, Roman?" the familiar midnight black hair of Cordelia Snow is framed around her face. "Cordelia Snow, I sponsored you when you were in the Games last year. Loved what you said last year. I've been talking to Tilver about sponsoring his tribute, but I think I like you more. So, what time is best for discussing your tributes?"

Roman smiles charmingly at her. "Anytime, just give me a call." He scrawls down his phone number onto a napkin and hands it to her. "Although, you can just go through the Hunger Games sponsor link and put money in through there."

"Oh darling, I don't like to do it that way. I like to make it… _a little more personal_." She smiles at him.

"Sometime tomorrow will work. I think Phoebe will have time to meet with you then."

She laughs. "No, not Phoebe, you." She leans in, and Roman doesn't like the smell of her rose perfume. "You've always been my favourite."

She saunters away, and Roman is left dumbstruck. He walks back to the mentor's room in complete silence, but Phoebe beams as she sees him. "Roman? What did you do? Tilver was seething when he came back up here."

Roman yawns. "Just told the truth."

"Well whatever is it, keep it up. We got ten thousand units for Caydin and Alexis, maybe more."

"Okay," he rubs his eyes tiredly. "Just tell me tomorrow. I'm going to sleep, because I've got a meeting with the Snows."

"The Snows? You got them from One?" Phoebe grins widely, taking another sip of her tea. Shimmer glares at him from the corner of his eye, but he's too tired to care.

"Yeah, I think so. Going to discuss it later. Just need a break." Phoebe nods worriedly, studying his frame.

"I'll walk you up, you look like you're going to faint. I'll take the shift tomorrow, just prepare for the meeting with the Snows. This could be huge."

He closes his eyes for a brief second and Phoebe steadies him. "And Roman? Don't tire yourself out, you're doing great. You're getting a hang on the rules of the game pretty quick."

* * *

 **Wow, who dis? This isn't Ata, she can't update this fast. It takes her several months to update! But since it is the summer, and intermissions are much easier to write than the games itself, this chapter's out speedy quick! (Also I'm away for the rest of this week and next week).**

 **So what are intermissions exactly? They're all perspectives from mentors to see what's going on behind the scenes. Tributes don't have sponsors from thin air. So there was a hint of grief in the background, going to focus on that with the different mentors, and with each mentor comes a different tribute focused on. Because Roman's a Career, the tributes from the Careers (save Elias; he's pretty quiet because Mags is quiet) are mentioned heavily. We have a sprinkle in of other tributes, but not as much as the Careers. Next intermission it's a different mentor. Roman will not have another POV for a long time, if ever.**

 **Whispers tribute form is up on my profile, and you don't need a gmail account to submit! So check it out under the Next SYOT section! :D**

 **Also, tell me which mentor you want to hear from next and who is your favourite (I think I asked this before, but opinions can change!) Also tell me what you think about this chapter, I love to read your reviews, they make me smile :)**

 **Until next time!**

 _~Ata_


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